Double Trouble
by Shellie1
Summary: Hermione has reached her seventh year and things are about to change.
1. Chapter I

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DOUBLE TROUBLE

~ Michelle Jones ~

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CHAPTER I

On the morning of the first day in September, Hermione awoke, feeling a warm weight on her stomach. Attempting to turn over, she forced Crookshanks to leave her perch and find another resting pace on the floor. The young girl, however, could not return to the dream she had been having, and listened to the sound of her pet's purrs instead. 

Hermione must have dropped off to sleep again, because the next thing she remembered, she was being shaken awake by her mother. Looking sideways at her clock, Hermione saw that it was already nine o'clock, leaving her with a couple of hours before she needed to get the Hogwarts Express. 

Today was the first day of her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Hermione was particularly looking forward to this year; during the holidays she had received a letter announcing her as the new Head Girl. She had immediately informed her two best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, who had both been overjoyed with the decision. She had not, however, been told who was to be Head Boy yet, as she would find this out upon her arrival at the school. She had half-expected Harry to have taken on the role; after all, in the past seven years Harry had helped the school immensely. _Perhaps_, she thought, _it was too obvious; he was_, she reasoned, _the Boy Who Lived_.

As she pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top, Hermione double-checked that she had packed all her school equipment, and that her shiny Head Girl badge was neatly pinned on her robe, just above where the Hogwarts crest lay. 

Hermione gazed at the four creatures that surrounded the letter 'H' on the crest; an eagle, a badger, a lion and a serpent. Each of these creatures were the emblems for the four Houses that divided the school; Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and finally Slytherin. Hermione, along with her friends, belonged to Gryffindor, and she had rarely befriended those from the other Houses. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, although intelligent and loyal respectively, seldom shared classes with Gryffindor and, whilst she knew many of her fellow schoolmates, she had never become anything more than acquaintances with them. 

Slytherin, however, was a different matter. Gryffindor shared many of their lessons with this House, Potions included. In this particular lesson, Professor Snape, Potions teacher and head of the Slytherin House; had singled out Hermione, Ron and Harry as trouble-makers, whilst appointing Malfoy as his favourite student. Since their first day at school, Draco Malfoy; a rather pale, blond haired boy; had continually voiced his opinion that Hogwarts should accept only those of pure wizarding blood. As a result, he and Hermione had always been enemies, she being of Muggle origins and he being the heir of one of the more respectable wizarding families.

Looking at the time once again, Hermione drew her eyes from the Hogwarts crest and, without any difficulty, forced the image of Draco out of her head. After making her way downstairs and eating her full English breakfast, Hermione helped her father load the car with all her cases, and sat waiting in one of the back seats. As they made their way through the busy streets of London towards King's Cross Station, Hermione stared out of the window and reflected on the time she had previously spent at Hogwarts.

She remembered their very first year; the arguments she and Ron had had, Hagrid and his pet dragon Norbert and Harry's second meeting with Lord Voldemort. As she continued to think of the time that they had all spent at Hogwarts, all the comments that Malfoy had thrown at her came flowing back. He never seemed to miss an opportunity to wind her up, and the majority of the time, he and Ron had ended up in a fight. 

Hermione looked away from the window with a sharp jolt. _She had been thinking about Malfoy again_. This was turning into a nasty habit; she hated the guy more than anything and was glad that this was the last year she would ever have to see his nasty smirk again. She smiled at that prospect. _Yes_, she decided, _the less she saw of Malfoy, the better_.

In hardly any time, the family car drew up at King's Cross Station, and both Hermione and her mother jumped out to unload her cases. Pulling a trolley and with Crookshanks prowling beside her, Hermione and her mother made their way onto the platform where she could get onto platform nine and three-quarters, where the Hogwarts Express would be waiting.

After saying goodbye to her mother with a quick hug, Hermione discretely leaned against the wall between platforms nine and ten, and disappeared from view. Almost instantly, she reappeared on another platform where a gleaming red train was standing, stationary. After handing her luggage to a porter who promptly placed it in a compartment, Hermione glanced towards both ends of the platform looking for either of her best friends. 

She spotted them in the distance and waved to them, hoping they would see her above the rest of the pupils making their way onto the train.

"Hermione!" Harry greeted her, "how are you? We were worried when you didn't come to meet us in Diagon Alley."

"Oh, I was busy," Hermione replied, briskly.

"No doubt polishing your new Head Girl badge, if you're anything like Percy." Hermione began to say something, but a grin spread across Ron's face, "I was only joking, Hermione!" Making a face at him, she allowed Ron to pull her up onto the train, where they walked, single-file, until they found a compartment that was empty.

Hermione took the seat next to the window, leaving Harry and Ron to take the two seats nearest to their compartment door. The two boys proceeded to have a conversation about their favourite sport, Quidditch, and Hermione, having no interest in the subject, turned and looked out of the window at the remaining students who were not yet on the train. 

A little to the right of where they had chosen to sit, Hermione could see a tall man that she instantly recognised as Lucius Malfoy; Draco's father. Intrigued, she twisted her head so as to get a better view. In front of Lucius was Draco, standing at almost the same height. Draco's silver-blond hair shone in the sunlight as he bent his head slightly to embrace his mother. Shaking his father's hand, Draco turned away and boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Hermione shook her head slightly and turned back towards her two friends. They were still discussing Quidditch tactics. Since she had first met them, both boys had been obsessed with the sport but now they were almost unbearable. Both Harry and Ron were now on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; Harry as Seeker and Ron as keeper. Preferring to remain out of the conversation, Hermione closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

"Where's your stinking Mudblood girlfriend, Potter?" a voice in the distance smirked, "or are we fortunate enough to hear that she is no longer with us?" Hermione turned her head in her sleep; _that voice sounded familiar_.

"You'd better take that back right now, Malfoy." That was definitely Ron's voice. Hermione blinked, now fully awake. _What was going on_, she wondered. Following the voices, Hermione left the now empty compartment and made her way down the train. 

She came to a halt a few compartments down, and looked through the glass window at the top of the door. Inside were the figures of Draco, Ron and Harry although, surprisingly, Malfoy's usual entourage of Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen. 

Ron and Malfoy were standing only a couple of inches away from each other, their noses almost touching. Both were glaring evilly into the other's eyes. Hermione instinctively knew what both were thinking. Whilst Ron would be imagining all the possible insults he would like to throw at Malfoy and his family, Draco was probably thinking of all the spells and potions he would conjure up as an act of revenge.

Hermione continued to watch as Harry stepped between the two boys who reluctantly withdrew their stares. Harry and Ron left Malfoy in silence and, with Hermione, retreated to their own compartment. 

"What was that all about?" inquired Hermione as soon as they had closed the door. Neither boy could offer a good explanation; it seemed that Malfoy had said something to wind up Ron and he, being unable to help himself, had risen to the bait and had challenged Malfoy to a fight. 

Having not received much of a reply, Hermione sighed, "well, we'd better put our robes on, we should be coming up to the castle in about twenty minutes." Ron rolled his eyes in Harry's direction.

"Typical of you to know exactly when we'll arrive even though you've been asleep half the journey," he muttered to Hermione, who jokingly poked out her tongue before returning to her case and pulling out her new long black robes. As she slipped it over her shoulders and did up the buttons, she turned to face the two boys. They both had mock envy expressions on their face and were pointing at her Head Girl badge making 'ooooh' and 'ahhhh' noises.

"Shut up guys," she laughed, just as Malfoy poked his head into their compartment.

"I see that git of a headmaster has accidentally allowed a common Mudblood like you to become a Head Girl; don't worry Granger, I'm sure it won't be long before somebody realises his mistake," Malfoy sneered in her direction and moved his head just as Ron flew in his direction. 

"Maybe you'd prefer to get that mutt that you call a sister to fight for you." Malfoy smirked as Ron clenched his fists. "At least she might be able to aim correctly," continued Malfoy.

This was too much for Ron. Before he had even realised what was happening, he had thrown himself on top of Malfoy and was punching him. Hermione attempted to call to Ron, but he was past listening. Giving up, Hermione stood, next to Harry, watching in terror as the fight continued. The two boys were tumbling around on the floor; most of the time it was Malfoy who was throwing the punches whilst Ron set to work kicking his enemy in the shins. _Malfoy was looking rather strong_, Hermione thought, inwardly, _he must have been working out during the summer._ It was true; Malfoy's usual weedy appearance had changed over the two and a half month break. His robes that last year had hung off his shoulders now clung to his 6 foot frame, showing a set of well-developed biceps. 

Having found herself once again thinking of Malfoy, Hermione shook her head and her attention returned to the fight that was still taking place just outside their compartment. By this time a small crowd had gathered to watch the fight, a mixture of Slytherins and Gryffindors, who were cheering Malfoy and Ron respectively. 

With one final kick, Ron managed to wriggle free from Malfoy and stood above him, declaring victory. The group of Gryffindors who had gathered around the two boys cheered and clapped Ron on the back, before returning to their seats. Hermione looked from one boy to the other; whilst Ron had a bloody nose, Malfoy could hardly stand. Ron had kicked him so many times that even in Malfoy's conceited expression, it was clear that it was causing him pain to get up from the floor.

Cursing under his breath and gripping one of his knees, Malfoy turned to the now grinning Ron. "I'm going to get you, Weasley, when you least expect it. You just wait!" Having offered his threat, Malfoy turned towards his own compartment, not wanting to hear Ron's comeback. In the distance he heard a laugh, and felt his face flush red with anger. _He had just been humiliated by a Weasley! There was no way he was going to let this pass. This year at Hogwarts_, he paused,_ Ron was going to pay._


	2. Chapter II

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CHAPTER II

Stepping off the train, the three teenagers heard a friendly voice above the noise of the rest of the students. "Firs' years, firs' years, oh hullo Harry," Hagrid spotted them and greeted them all. He grinned at each of their faces, but when he looked at Ron he frowned, "wha' happened to you?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

"Malfoy. That's what happened," Ron replied as though even mentioning the name brought a sour taste to his mouth.

After talking for a few moments, Hagrid continued to call out to the timid first-years who were looking up at the castle with a mixture of awe and anxiety in their eyes. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed their fellow seventh years towards the castle, but soon noticed that Ron was clutching his chest in rather a strange manner.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione frowned as she inquired after her friend.

"I'll be alright. It's just, when we were fighting, whenever Malfoy leant into me, something sharp dug into my chest."

"Must have been some stupid necklace that that Parkinson girl probably gave him last year," Harry reasoned. Pansy Parkinson had, for as long as anyone could remember, idolised Malfoy; and in the fourth year, after attending the Yule Ball together, they had become an item. Personally, the Gryffindors hated her; finding her words and actions vulgar and her company not worth keeping. She was, however, undeniably perfect for Draco Malfoy; together they spent hours criticising people's slightest flaws, and spent nights in giggles over somebody else's misfortunes. 

"You don't think …" started Hermione. She had just realised what she was about to say, and she suddenly went very pale.

"What Hermione?" prompted Harry before he, too, caught on, "no, he couldn't be the Head Boy … could he?" The remainder of their journey towards the castle, although slow because of Ron's discomfort, was spent discussing the possibility of Malfoy as Head Boy.

"It would certainly explain why he was acting so smug," offered Hermione. This was quickly contradicted by the reminder that Malfoy always acted smug about something. As they drew closer to the Entrance Hall, the conversation between the three teenagers ceased and Hermione said a silent prayer as they made their way towards the hospital wing on the way to the Great Hall. 

After having his nose fixed by Madam Pomfrey, Ron led his two friends towards the Great Hall where the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin. Spotting three spare seats, Hermione, Harry and Ron walked past the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs, and sat down with the rest of the Gryffindors on the far right side of the Great Hall. Hermione heard a small chuckle coming from the right of her where Harry sat, and turned to look at what had caught his attention. Harry, instead of listening to Dumbledore's annual welcoming speech, was preoccupied looking at the new first-years. Hermione, following his gaze, looked at each of their faces and smiled warmly, remembering her first impressions of the castle.

Standing at the back of the Great Hall, were about eighty new students; all with robes that were far too long for them, and with frightened faces, not knowing what was about to happen. Scanning the sea of faces, Hermione saw a small boy with sandy hair whispering to his friend. The young boy had an expression on his face that Hermione recognised, yet couldn't place where she had seen it before. 

Hermione returned her attention to the front of the Hall, where Professor McGonagall had begun to lead the first-years. The three-legged stool and the old patched wizard's hat had already been placed in front of the staff table. Hermione watched as the tear near the brim opened like a mouth and the hat broke into song.

Hermione, having already witnessed six Sorting Ceremonies allowed her eyes to wander to the staff table. All the teachers from last year had returned, and to her relief, she saw that Professor Lupin, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was still sitting at the very end of the table.

Lupin had first taught at Hogwarts when Hermione had been in her third year, but due to matters out of his control, he had been forced to resign for the following couple of years. He had returned last year, much to her and Harry's relief and Malfoy's discomfort. The rumour that the Defence Against the Dark Arts position was jinxed, it seemed, had been proven untrue.

Her eyes wandered along the line of teachers who sat at the table watching the first-years as they each, in turn, placed the Sorting Hat on their heads. Professor Flitwick, the tiny Charms teacher had placed a large pile of cushions on her chair, and was sitting next to the Herbology teacher, Professor Sprout, as usual. On Professor Sprout's other side, at the centre of the table was Professor Dumbledore, wearing a dark maroon cloak sprinkled with stars. On his other side sat Professor Sinistra, who didn't look too happy with the seating arrangements. Hermione didn't blame her; to the Astrology teacher's right sat Professor Snape, the sallow-faced, greasy-haired Potions master. 

As Hermione's gaze rested on this final teacher, she realised that he was the only one who was not looking at the group of new students in front of him. Instead, he was nervously scanning the Hall as though looking for someone or something. 

"And now," Dumbledore got to his feet before continuing, "I will announce the names of the Head Boy and Girl." Hermione looked away from Snape and couldn't help but grin; a sense of pride overwhelming her. 

"Firstly, the Head Boy – we had many worthy candidates for such a position this year, and we decided upon one who has shown his true colours throughout his time at Hogwarts." Hermione sighed silently relieved, _that's good, it can't be Malfoy_. "In his own house, he has shown great accomplishments, both in his attainment during lessons and his performance on the Quidditch pitch. He has shown himself as a worthy representative of the school, and I am honoured to present Draco Malfoy as this year's Head Boy."

Hermione froze. She watched as Malfoy made his way from the Slytherin table, amid cheers from his friends, and stopped before Dumbledore. He smirked in her direction before turning to whisper something to Snape. _This couldn't be happening_, Hermione thought, her face turning pale, _Malfoy as Head Boy? But … he couldn't be._

The sound of the Headmaster's warm voice interrupted her thoughts. "The Head Girl this year was chosen for her many outstanding qualities shown in her classroom activities. For many years now, Hogwarts has prided itself as being the best, both individually and in group tasks. Our Head Girl, in addition to receiving outstanding marks for all her lessons, has helped and encouraged others who have struggled with the work. It is with great pleasure that I invite Hermione Granger to join me here."

Hermione was suddenly aware of a loud roar as her name was announced. She stood and slowly made her way towards the front of the Great Hall. As she walked towards Professor Dumbledore, looking at the smiling faces of her fellow Gryffindors, Hermione almost forgot who she was joining as a partner.

At the front of the Great Hall, whilst Dumbledore shook her hand, Malfoy stood behind him sneering. After a short discussion with their Headmaster, both students returned to their seats. 

  
"Can you believe they made Malfoy Head Boy?" Harry immediately asked as soon as she had turned to face him. "True colours?"

"Great accomplishments? Performance on the Quidditch pitch?" Ron joined in. "He only filled the Slytherin team captain position because his father buys them all new broomsticks each year!"

Hermione only half-listened as her friends continued to insult Malfoy. Dumbledore had told them to remain in the Hall after the feast so that he could give them some guidance._ Malfoy would be there_, she remembered, _so much for seeing less of him this year_.

It was noticeable to both Ron and Harry that Hermione was quieter than usual, and after filling themselves with as much food as they could manage, they wished her luck and made their way towards the Gryffindor common room. 

Gradually, the students left the Great Hall, making their way towards their various dormitories, until only Draco and Hermione remained. Dumbledore had had to retreat to his office for a few moments and whilst waiting for him, the two seventh years stood in an awkward silence waiting for the other to speak first.

"So Granger; you've finally been noticed for all that you are, just a brain," Malfoy scorned, his lips curling into what Hermione assumed was a smile.

Not wanting to retaliate, Hermione pursed her lips and leant back against the table she was standing in front of us. _If she was going to have to work with Malfoy this year,_ she had realised,_ it would not help to start a fight with him. _Malfoy, disappointed by her lack of reaction, began to pace the width of the Hall never taking his eyes of Hermione.

__

He's just doing it to wind you up, Hermione thought. Every time she looked up, Malfoy was staring in her direction with his silver-blue eyes. _Don't let him_, she reminded herself. Daring to play along, Hermione raised her head and watched Malfoy as he prowled in front of her. As Malfoy realised what she was doing, a look of surprise crossed his face before almost instantly disappearing; _if that's how she wants to play it_, he thought. 

When Professor Dumbledore returned to the Great Hall he found his two students, the new Head Boy and Head Girl, glaring into each other's eyes. Malfoy, by this time, had stopped pacing and was now standing about a metre from where Hermione was leaning against the table. Although both students were blinking, it was almost as though they were having a staring contest; the first to move would be the one to lose.

"Well," he chuckled, "you two are getting along better than I thought you would."

Hearing the arrival of their Headmaster, both Hermione and Malfoy jumped slightly, breaking eye contact. Hermione lowered her head and looked at her shoes feeling her cheeks turn a pale shade of pink. Draco, on the other hand, smirked in her direction, muttering something under his breath. 

"Now I know you two haven't ever been the best of friends," Dumbledore paused, looking from the pink face to the pale one, "but I trust you can reconcile your differences in your final year so as to be of most benefit to the school." Hermione nodded while Malfoy avoided both her and Dumbledore's eyes. 

They spent the next ten minutes or so discussing the various responsibilities that they would expect to take on. Helping the first-years, planning events such as the Yule Ball, organising various Quidditch matches; the list seemed endless. Hermione continued to nod while Dumbledore spoke. Malfoy stood, his face expressionless, and just listened. 

When he had finished, the old wizard left the Great Hall, leaving the two seventh-years to talk for a few minutes before they had to return to their dormitories. 

"So, when do you want to meet up and discuss our duties." Hermione had decided to act civilly to Draco; from what Dumbledore had been saying, they were going to be seeing a lot more of each other. 

"Meet you at the Entrance Hall after breakfast tomorrow," Malfoy had begun to walk away, saying this to Hermione over his shoulder. Watching him saunter away, she sighed, _this was going to be a long year._

An hour or so later, Hermione had begun her Head Girl duties; showing a new Slytherin student the way to their common rooms. Both her and Malfoy had been given the exact location of all the common rooms so that they could be of help to all students and not just those of their own House. 

Having left the young girl inside the Slytherin common room, Hermione turned to make her way back to the Gryffindor area, but heard voices coming from a little farther along the corridor._ Students shouldn't be wandering around the castle at this time, _she thought. Intrigued, she began to make her way down the corridor. As she drew closer to the voices, she heard an unmistakably evil laugh which could only come from Draco Malfoy. Shortly after, a female voice could be heard; that voice almost undoubtedly belonged to Pansy Parkinson. _What were these two up to now?_

"Yes, you should do that," she heard Pansy say, excitement in her voice, "even that Granger girl wouldn't know what to do." Hermione jumped, having heard her own name, _what were they talking about?_ It didn't take long before she realised that they were talking about her best friend, Ron.

"Weasley," she heard Malfoy say, as she turned away, an evil streak in his voice, "you have no idea what you have coming to you!" Hermione blinked as she heard an evil laugh, before disappearing down the corridor in the opposite direction.


	3. Chapter III

**Author's Note: **Firstly, can I thank everyone who's reading this … whether it's the first time or, erm, the hundredth. It means so much to me to hear your comments. A few comments first:

Lulu Hendrix – Draco and Hermione rule, don't they?! I didn't believe in it once, but some fic (I wish I could remember which one) changed me around! Thanks for your sweet comment. It means a lot!

Caitie – Hey! Welcome back! Missed talking to your Royal Craziness!

Kim – I do remember you! Uni's good fun, I'm enjoying it so much although, as you may have noticed, it doesn't give me a lot of time to work on other things, such as this fic for example.

Chelsea – I am going to work on the website very shortly. I know I haven't updated it ages but that's simply because I've had no time. I'm going to _make_ time this term!

Sex & Diamonds – Are you sure you haven't read this story before? (That might make sense one day) But thanks for your comments.

Jenny – Hi! Haven't seen you around in a while! Hopefully it won't be tooooo long before I get this thing completely up here again!!

Anyway, on with the story …

* * * * *

**CHAPTER III **

The following morning, Hermione awoke, and before even lifting her head, remembered what she had heard Malfoy and Pansy discussing the previous night. After getting dressed, she made her way towards the Gryffindor common room where she found Ron and Harry sitting on two comfy red armchairs in the corner.

Briefly noting that the two boys were up early, Hermione made her way towards them. They hadn't even noticed her arrival until she had said 'good morning' to them. Both boys had had their heads bent over a small piece of paper. 

Looking more closely, Hermione saw that it was in fact a small card with the Slytherin emblem, a small green serpent, emblazoned in the bottom right corner. _Malfoy__!_ Hermione immediately thought. On the card, in an untidy scrawl, were the words: _Weasley__. Potions room. __Ten o'clock__ tonight_. The note had been left unsigned, but it was clear that both Ron and Harry were under the impression that it had been Malfoy who had sent it. 

"When did you get this? Where did you find it?" Hermione temporarily forgot her news about Malfoy and Pansy, as a string of questions left her mouth. She quickly learnt that Ron had woken up feeling a slight amount of pressure on his face. Opening his eyes, he had found the card laying on his forehead. After hearing this, it took a while before Hermione uttered another word. 

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed, looking at her friend's bewildered face. 

"Hermione, we know it's Malfoy. But … he couldn't have come into the Gryffindor dormitories." Ron's face looked almost triumphant at the prospect of having proved his best friend wrong.

"Ron …." she began to explain, "Malfoy and I have been given the passwords and locations of all the common rooms. He could easily have told the Fat Lady that he was the Head Boy. He must have come in shortly after I heard him with Pansy." 

She had forgotten that she hadn't yet told them about last night and tried hard to stifle a giggle; both were staring at her with confused expressions on their faces. She promptly explained what she had heard the previous night. When she had finished, she looked at each of her best friend's faces. Ron's face, whilst she had been talking, had portrayed expressions of both anger and fear. 

"What do you think they're planning? Should I go tonight?" Ron asked, meekly, looking at his best friends for advice. Still discussing the options, the three seventh-years made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione hadn't forgotten about her meeting with Malfoy and kept glancing in his direction whilst she ate her toast. 

He, sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, kept looking up in the direction of the Gryffindors. Today, however, his gaze did not rest upon Hermione, choosing instead to focus on the red-headed figure of Ron. His stare, although going unnoticed by Ron, made Hermione feel uneasy._ He was planning something_, she thought, _and it was not something pleasant. _

Shortly after she finished her breakfast, Hermione saw Malfoy leave the Great Hall, giving her a meaningful look as he walked towards the Entrance Hall. Excusing herself, Hermione left Ron and Harry and hurriedly caught up with Malfoy.

Without even glancing at her, Malfoy began; "If you don't mind, I'll organise the Quidditch matched. Of course," he sneered at her, "you can try and help, but we both know I have more experience in this field." 

Hermione felt as though she had been slapped across her face._ So Malfoy though he was better than her? She'd show him._

"Okay, that's fine," she agreed, "I'll check it over when you've finished. I'll start on the Yule Ball preparations." 

As she said this, she saw Malfoy's face fall. The Yule Ball had first been introduced to Hogwarts when they had been in their fourth year. It had been an official introduction to the Champions of the Triwizard Tournament. However, the students had had such a good time, that each year, they had continued to have a ball just before Hogwarts closed for Christmas. The name, The Yule Ball, had stuck, but the rule stating that it was only for fourth-years and above had been abolished. 

Hermione smiled sweetly at Malfoy, as he stood shell-shocked. "Erm … okay," he tried to reason, "let's work on all the tasks together." 

Having achieved what she wanted, Hermione nodded to agree. The two students spent the next couple of minutes discussing what each would do before they next met up, before departing to go to their first lessons of the year. _So, Malfoy can act civilly when he wants to_, Hermione thought as she walked away towards her Muggle Studies lesson. 

Later, when they all had free periods, Hermione joined Ron and Harry again, in the Gryffindor common room. She almost collapsed onto the chair; she was worn out; she had spent the day both in lessons and directing younger pupils to wear they should be, and she hadn't even thought about her first Head Girl responsibility. She and Malfoy had agreed that he should make a draft plan of Quidditch matches and she would start with the initial planning for the Yule Ball.

Harry and Ron were still discussing Ron's meeting with Malfoy later that night. It seemed that it had been the topic of conversation between them all day; they had come up with many different ideas. 

"Malfoy's going to challenge Ron to a duel or something," offered Harry, a little too enthusiastically for Ron's liking. Ron poked him in the ribs. "What?! Come on, he could make you drink a potion and turn you into something horrible." Harry smiled and looked at his friends. "Oh, come on, I was only joking! Malfoy wouldn't do that." 

Hermione wasn't so sure, and neither, by the look of it, was Ron. His face, beneath his freckles, had gone very pale. It was obvious to Hermione that Ron was particularly nervous about their encounter tonight, but Harry hadn't seemed to notice this as he continued to joke about the possibilities until Hermione pointed out that it was nearly quarter-past-nine. 

"Ron, take the Invisibility cloak," she advised, "and don't forget your wand." He gave her a funny look when she said this, to which she only shrugged. "Just wanted to remind you, and if you're at all unsure, at any time, just leave and come back." 

With fifteen minutes to get to Snape's dungeon, where the trio had Potions, Ron slipped through the portrait hole. With the Invisibility cloak on, no one could see him, but he was extra careful as he tip-toed around a group of third-year Hufflepuffs who, it seemed, had just come back from a Divination lesson. They were discussing the alignment of Neptune and Pluto. Ron grinned; he and Harry had always enjoyed predicting their deaths each week.

Almost immediately, Ron's face dropped. He remembered where he was headed, and the uncertainty of the task that lay ahead struck him. He was meeting Malfoy, in Malfoy's own territory. Suddenly this didn't seem like a good idea. In almost no time at all, Ron found himself at the darkened entrance to Snape's dungeon. He lifted the Invisibility cloak from his shoulders and looking through the archway which served the purpose of a door, Ron saw that it was empty. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was five-past-ten, he was late. 

Stepping into the classroom, Ron saw a small card placed on Snape's desk. The card was the same as he had found on his face, with the serpent in the corner. Once again, Malfoy's untidy scrawl defined a message. _Weasley__.__ Be ready. I'll get you. 30th September. Be waiting._ This letter, too, had been left unsigned. 

Ron almost laughed, he had been so nervous about what might happen that night, that he hadn't considered the prospect of Malfoy not showing. Grabbing the card, Ron lifted the cloak, placed it over his head, and walked back towards the Gryffindor common room. 

He made it back to the common room, having had a very close encounter with Mrs Norris, the care-taker's cat. He was disappointed to find that both Harry and Hermione had left the common room to go to bed, he would have to tell them all about it in the morning. 

Only when he was lying down did he remember what the note had said_. What was Malfoy going to do on the last day of September,_ he thought nervously. 

The next day, Ron woke to see two familiar faces looking at him. One belonged to Harry and the other, to his surprise, belonged to Hermione. 

"What?" he started to say, "what are you doing here?"

Hermione didn't answer his question. "What happened last night?" Ron began to explain everything that happened the previous night; he told them about the empty classroom, the second card and the date set by Malfoy. After asking them where they had been when he returned, Hermione replied and Harry fell silent. "Oh, I went to bed, I thought you'd be a while," Hermione brushed off the question. Ron looked at Harry but it was evident that he wasn't going to get an answer. Harry had gone so red, that Ron thought he resembled a bright tomato. 

He laughed and dropped the subject, much to Harry's relief. The trio continued to discuss the matter as they walked down towards the Great Hall for breakfast. It reminded Hermione of the previous day, but this time, however, Malfoy had returned to his usual self. 

From the Slytherin table she could see Malfoy smirking and whispering to Crabbe and Goyle who sat one each side of him. They both, in turn, grinned evilly at something Malfoy had said before their eyes drifted towards the Gryffindor table. Shortly afterwards, Malfoy too, would look over at the Gryffindor table. Like yesterday, Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine, there stares were making her uncomfortable; there was something in Malfoy's eyes that made her think of all the things he could be plotting.

Harry and Ron, once again oblivious to Malfoy's comments, continued to discuss the latest Chudley Cannons Quidditch match. Hermione, however, kept watching him. When he looked directly at her, she would hold his gaze and challenge him to look away first. When he eventually allowed his gaze to drift away from her face, a small smile crossed her lips. 

When they had finished breakfast; Hermione, Harry and Ron left the Great Hall and started to make their way back to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione hadn't realised that they were being followed until she heard Malfoy's cold voice from behind her.

"Granger, a word please." His words were informal and she shivered, unconsciously. Seeing Harry and Ron's confused looks, "Head Girl business," he added, sneering at them. 

"It's alright, I'll meet you in the common room," Hermione let her friends walk ahead. She blushed as she recalled Malfoy's last words. The privilege of the title of Head Girl had begun to wear off; she was getting tired of having to escort first-years all over the castle, yet when Malfoy had said the two words an tremendous sense of pride came over her. 

She noticed that Malfoy had noticed her reddening face and looked at her feet, wanting to avoid his eyes. She sensed his eyes searching her face, and this made her blush even more. 

"What was that all about Granger?" Malfoy's stern face shocked her and she looked up at his face. "Couldn't keep your eyes off me at breakfast?" he continued.

She almost laughed at the idea. "You'd like to think so, would you?" she retorted. She watched as Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he tried to think of something he could throw back at her.

Deciding instead to change the subject, Malfoy told Hermione that he had finished the timetables for the Quidditch matches and told her she could pick it up from the Slytherin area anytime she chose. Telling him that she would meet him there at eight that evening, she turned to leave. As she walked away, she heard Malfoy say something that almost made her stop and retrace her steps. 

"Tell Weasley that he had better be there on the 30th." He laughed loudly as she continued down the corridor that led to the Gryffindor area. _She was going to have to think of a plan_, Hermione told herself, _and quickly_. 

Just before she muttered the password 'Twinkletoes', an idea came to her. Practically running into the common room she spotted Harry and Ron and instantly told them of her plan.

"We'll use Polyjuice Potion to transform ourselves into a Slytherin who is close to Malfoy and find out what he's planning for the 30th September." Excitement rose in her voice as she continued to tell them what she was thinking. Harry and Ron both nodded, _it was the best plan that they had thought of, so far, and …,_ Harry thought,_ there was almost no way it could fail_.


	4. Chapter IV

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Author's Note: Thank you so much again, to all my wonderful reviewers. 

Kim – the story's not exactly finished. It's even longer than ever before but yes, whenever there are updates, I do put them on HP.com. It's an even bigger thread now (thank god no one deleted it) – there's something like 41,000 posts on there now. Can you believe it?! I went to Leeds University which is a lot further up north the country than where I live. I live very near London normally. Bet you'll have loads of fun over here!

Everyone else – thank you so much, I really appreciate your comments!

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CHAPTER IV

The next day, the three students searched through Hermione's books, looking for the ingredients needed to make the Polyjuice Potion. The last and only time they had used it had been in their second year, once again to spy on Malfoy. They had suspected him of opening the Chamber of Secrets and the Polyjuice Potion enabled Harry and Ron to change into Crabbe and Goyle, the two people closest to Malfoy. 

Eventually, they found the list of ingredients and method at the bottom of a pile of letters Hermione had received. She read through them; lacewing flies …. leeches …. fluxweed …. shredded skin of a Boomslang. She remembered the troubles they had gone through in order to get these ingredients the first time; they had had to steal them from Snape's private stores, and that, it seemed, was what was going to happen this time. 

She quickly pulled out a chart that she had made in Astrology and worked out that the next full moon, when they could pick the fluxweed, was in fact that night. _They would have to work quickly_, she thought, _in order to have all the other ingredients by that time. _

As the trio discussed details, Hermione raised a question that neither of the boys had thought of. "Who are we going to be?" The three friends sat in silence whilst they considered the possibilities. It was quickly decided that Hermione should pose as Pansy; after all, she was his girlfriend and she had been the one who Malfoy had been discussing Ron with. They promptly debated whether or not Ron and Harry should also take it to become Crabbe and Goyle. It was decided that Hermione would take on the task; it would be too risky for Ron to find out information. 

The lacewings, needing twenty-one days to brew, could be found within the next couple of days and the trio worked out that the potion could be ready in time before the last day of the month. 

That day, Hermione begun to collect some of the ingredients that they needed. She and Ron remained behind after a Potions lesson and whilst Hermione asked Snape questions, her friend took some of the ingredients which he kept in a cupboard behind his desk. 

Leaving the room, Ron sighed, exhaling loudly; "That was close. I was sure he heard me when I turned the door handle." Hermione laughed; she was sure that this was the last time she would ever have to make the potion. She shivered slightly as she remembered the last time she had taken it. By accident, she had used a cat hair unknowingly. The results had been disastrous and she had had to spent a week in the Hospital Wing. 

Later that evening, she, Ron and Harry made their way towards Moaning Mrytle's bathroom. The room had remained out of use since they had been in their second year, although they had never been given a reason why. The three of them had constantly gone to the room during their years at Hogwarts when they had wanted some time alone, and knew that it would be deserted.

Hermione placed all the ingredients into the caldron which she set on one of the toilets. She left Ron to stir it while she read the method. Immediately a splashing gurgling noise could be heard from within the cauldron as the potion bubbled and changed colour. 

With one final look at the brewing potion, they left the bathroom and made their way back towards the common room, planning what Hermione would say to Malfoy later that month. They agreed that they would all spent more time around Pansy and Malfoy so that they would understand how the two communicated. How Hermione would get Malfoy to explain what he was planning was much harder to work out. He would have already told Pansy by this time, and he would get suspicious if he was asked to repeat his plans. 

Still unsure of all the details of the plan, the three friends continued to make the Polyjuice Potion, going to the bathroom every few hours to check on it. A couple of times, they had very close encounters with Snape, Filch and even Malfoy himself. 

"Weasley, what are you doing?" Malfoy had said in an amused voice, having just seen Ron return from the girl's toilet. Enjoying seeing Ron turn red, he had continued, "kissing your Mudblood girlfriend I'll bet." Hearing these words had almost shocked Ron. By now, he had gotten used to Malfoy's constant use of the insulting word, but hearing his say it then he realised that he had not heard it for a while; in fact he hadn't heard it since she had officially become Head Girl. _Maybe Hermione has finally been able to get a little respect from him_, he had thought. 

As the potion continued to boil and change colours, life at Hogwarts continued as usual. Lessons were the same as usual; Snape was his usual nasty self, Professor Binns just as boring, and Professor McGonagall just as stern. Malfoy and Hermione had spent much of their free time together, discussing their duties as the Heads of the school. 

Hermione, too, had noticed that Malfoy was no longer insulting her as much; his insults were now aimed more at Ron.

"Umm … Malfoy, you've changed … lately you haven't been quite as hateful as usual."

"Don't worry, I'm not going sweet on you," he smiled in her direction, "it's just … well, I've got other things on my mind at the moment." His eyes had a far-away look about them, and Hermione wondered what he had meant. She didn't ask, however, knowing that Malfoy probably wouldn't answer. 

Quidditch matches continued as usual; as Malfoy had planned Gryffindor was to play Slytherin in the first match of the year. After Malfoy had written out the match order, Hermione had checked it over with her two best friends, agreed that it had been well done and had passed it onto Madam Hooch, the Flying teacher.

When she returned to the common room, she only had ten minutes to talk to her best friends before they had to join the rest of the Gryffindor team. She walked with them towards the Quidditch pitch, finding herself a good spot where she would be able to see them clearly.

Next to Professor McGonagall, Hermione could see the figure of Dean Thomas, getting ready to commentate the match. He had taken over the role from Lee Jordan the two years ago, and had thoroughly enjoyed it and refused to pass over the responsibility until he had left Hogwarts. 

As the school filed into the stands surrounding the pitch, Dean cleared his throat before directing his wand at it and muttering the word 'Sonorus'. Seconds later, he introduced the game, his voice echoing throughout the whole field. 

"Welcome, students and teachers, to the first Quidditch match of the year …. Gryffindor versus Slytherin," Dean Thomas said, enthusiastically. 

"Here comes the Gryffindor team … Weasley as Keeper; Finnigan, Creevey and Creevey as Chasers; Patil and Brown as Beaters; and Harry Potter as Seeker." Hearing their introduction, the Gryffindor team pushed off from the ground and flew into the Quidditch ground. Amidst the cheers from that Gryffindor received from their own house, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Harry could see Hermione in the teacher's stand, waving to them.

Flying his broomstick with only one hand, he waved back and looking to his right, saw that Ron was doing the same. As the cheers died down, Dean Thomas began again; "And for the Slytherin team … Bulstrode as Keeper; Parkinson, Baddock and Pritchard as Seekers, Crabbe and Goyle as Beaters; and Malfoy as the Slytherin Seeker."

It was blatantly obvious that Gryffindor had received the louder cheers, yet Malfoy led his team onto the pitch, grinning evilly at his opponents. As Madam Hooch made her way into the centre of the pitch, carrying with her the box which contained the balls, the two teams positioned themselves, ready to begin. However, no whistle was heard.

Harry leant forward on his broomstick, looking down to the ground to try and see what was holding up the game. Madam Hooch was saying something to Pansy Parkinson who had left her position at one of the goal-posts. Harry took this opportunity to look at his opponent's team. Both he and Malfoy had been nominated Captains for their Quidditch teams and had had the chance to choose their own team from the many students that now attended Hogwarts. 

He noticed that Malfoy's team had only seventh-years and fourth-years. His own was similar, although he had introduced Colin Creevey, a sixth-year, as a Chaser. The two teams looked almost identical; both had two girls on the team and five boys, but it would seem that Gryffindor had an obvious advantage. Malfoy, relying upon their top-of-the-range broomsticks that his father had provided, had chosen a team made of the strongest, bulkiest people in his House. Earlier, Harry had almost laughed when he had learnt that Bulstrode was to be on his team; he was a rather large girl with a lot of strength, but not much agility. He glanced at her as she sat in front of one of the Slytherin goal-posts; she didn't look very comfortable sat on the thin broomstick handle.

He had been so involved in his own thoughts that he hadn't noticed that Dean had begun to talk again, obviously in an attempt to interest the rest of the school while Madam Hooch finished talking to Pansy. 

"And this year, it seems Potter has picked the perfect team," he winked at Harry as he said this. Harry smiled back; _it seemed that each year, it was a Gryffindor who was chosen to be a commentator, and they had always been biased against Slytherin and towards their own House_. "Weasley shows precise judgement when blocking Quaffles from the Slytherins; the Creevey brothers and Finnigan demonstrate their fantastic abilities when scoring and darting through the air, Patil and Brown block those Bludgers like no other could … the perfect team!" he exclaimed. "And the Slytherins," he continued, his voice taking a deeper tone, "well … the Slytherins … oh, look at that, Parkinson is returning to her post and the game shall commence."

Harry laughed at the perfect timing. It had been obvious that Dean had not been able to comment positively on Malfoy's team. Giving his team's captain a final thumbs-up, Dean began again, "And the Quaffles up - straight into Colin's arms – through Malcolm Baddock, through Graham Pritchard – goal-posts coming up – Keeper Bulstrode comes forward – and GRYFFINDOR SCORES!"

The cheers from the Gryffindors were matched only by the sounds of howls and moans coming from the Slytherins. 

"Parkinson with the Quaffle – tackled by Seamus Finnigan who takes possession of the Quaffle – watch out for that Bludger – misses the Bludger – OOHHH – that had to hurt."

Harry looked at what he had been talking about. What he say below made him laugh, much to Malfoy's disgust. Crabbe and Goyle were sitting, still on their broomsticks, rubbing their foreheads. In an eager attempt to hit the Bludger, they had come too close and hit each other on the head. He looked back at Finnigan who was still tearing up the field.

"Past Pritchard – and he sco – no, stopped by Bulstrode – who's sent the Quaffle straight into Dennis Creevey – and the younger brother is making his way down the field – under Crabbe – over Goyle – this is the way to do it – and he puts it straight through the post – GRYFFINDOR, TWENTY; SLYTHERIN, ZERO."

Harry looked over at Malfoy; he had sunk down to the level at which Crabbe and Goyle were flying and was telling them something. No doubt he was convincing them to do something to one of his players. _He'd keep his eye on them_, he decided. 

"Parkinson with the Quaffle – heading straight for the goal-post – Colin Creevey coming up behind her, no doubt waiting to take the Quaffle off her – what's this, Crabbe and Goyle now flying alongside her – they're closing in and – OUCH – Colin Creevey is sent soaring to the ground – quickly recovered and flying straight back into the game – both Creevey brothers on Parkinson's tail – will they make it? – NO – Slytherin score."

Just as he saw Malfoy grin at his two friends and raise his arms to celebrate the goal, Harry saw a gleaming golden shimmer of light near the ground. It was the Snitch. Pointing the end of his Firebolt to the ground, Harry held on tight. As he flew towards the ground, he sped up, putting all his energy into this; if he got the Snitch, the game would be over and Gryffindor would have won. 

Barely aware of Malfoy right behind him, Harry held on. _This is just like performing the Wronski Feint,_ he thought,_ except this time he **had** to get the Snitch_. As he drew closer to the gleaming ball, he lifted one hand off his broomstick and got ready to pull upwards with the other. Leaning slightly further forwards, he pulled the front of his broomstick sharply upwards and closed his fingers around the small golden Snitch. 

It was only then he realised that he had completely blocked out any noise when he had been concentrating. Suddenly his hearing came back to him at full volume; "And Harry gets the Snitch – GRYFFINDOR, ONE-HUNDRED-AND-SEVENTY; SLYTHERIN, TEN." Following his words, Harry heard an almighty roar; not only were the Gryffindors cheering his win, but so were the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, and the disappointed comments from the Slytherins were easily drowned out.

Harry smiled, before landing and returning to the changing rooms. He quickly changed into his Hogwarts robes and made his way towards the castle to try and find Hermione and Ron. 

  
"That was fantastic, Harry," they greeted him as soon as they could get through the people that had gathered around him. 

Harry, however, had other thoughts on his mind, "You know what we have to do tonight?" he reminded them. Tonight was the night that they had planned to use the Polyjuice Potion. Slipping away from the crowd around them, they made their way towards Moaning Mrytle's bathroom and looked at the potion. 

"Oh, here," Harry said, remembering that he was holding a hair that he had taken from Pansy's robes before the Quidditch match. Hermione took a small plastic beaker, filled it with the potion and added the single hair. The potion in her hand immediately hissed and bubbled. Wanting to save it for later, Hermione put a lid on the beaker and placed it in a small bag she had brought with her.

"Now, to get Pansy on her own," she said, a determined look on her face. This part of the plan, it had been agreed would be left to Harry. He had told Pansy earlier that he wanted to see her to tell her something about Quidditch and she had agreed to meet him an hour after the game. He would go along, under the Invisibility Cloak, disarm Pansy and hide her until it was safe for her to come out again. This left him with only fifteen minutes now, to get to where he was meeting her, down a deserted corridor which was on the third floor.

Telling Hermione and Ron where and when to meet him, he left and soon found himself at the opening of the corridor. Looking at his watch, he saw that he still had five minutes left, so he didn't put the Cloak on just yet. 

"Potter," she said, in a disgusted voice that didn't sound a lot unlike the one that Malfoy would use, "what do you want?"

Harry stumbled; he hadn't expected her to be early. Not thinking clearly, Harry raised his want as she did the same.

"Expelliarmus!" Pansy shouted loudly, just as Harry shouted the words 'Petrificus Totalus'. He watched as his spell hit Pansy; her legs sprang together and her arms snapped to her sides. She swayed and then fell over backwards, landing with a small thud._ He was lucky that her spell hadn't hit him first_, he thought, _he would have been in trouble then_. The spell he had used was one that he had only seen performed once, and that was in their first year when Neville had refused to let them leave the common room. Hermione had had to freeze him until they returned, for fear that he would alert a teacher. 

He glanced towards both ends of the corridor; he could hear the hurried voices of Ron and Hermione coming towards him. Taking off her shoes and a small brooch that was pinned to her robes, Harry dragged Pansy into an empty classroom and hid her in a large cupboard in the corner. 

As Ron and Hermione entered the room, he told them where Pansy was; she wouldn't come round for another twelve hours or so; Hermione should be able to find out lots by then. Bringing the plastic beaker to her lips, Hermione gulped half of the Polyjuice Potion that she had taken from the cauldron.

Hermione felt very strange as she swallowed the Polyjuice Potion. She felt as though she felt as though her insides were being eaten by live snakes, then suddenly she felt a burning sensation all over her body. _This was different to what she had experienced last time, hopefully it was going fine. _As suddenly as it had started, the pains stopped. She turned to look at each of her friends; they were both staring open-mouthed at her transformation. 

"That was bloody brilliant," commented Ron, unable to say anything. Without saying anything else, Hermione kicked off her, now, too-small shoes, replaced them with Pansy's, pinned the brooch to her robes and, with Harry and Ron, left the classroom. Knowing that she didn't have much time, she said 'goodbye', telling them to wait for her return. Checking that she had the beaker with the remainder of the potion in, she made her way towards the common room. 

As she stood outside the entrance, she muttered the password 'power-seekers' and pushed the door open. Once inside the common room, she noticed that it was much the same as the Gryffindor one, yet all the furnishings were green, instead of maroon. 

"Oi, you," she froze as she heard a drunken drawl call her from her right, "come over here." A blond head poked up from over the side of the couch; it was Malfoy.


	5. Chapter V

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Author's Note: Thank you so much for your comments! It's so good to repost this and get some fresh outlooks on it! And well, yeah, it was a nasty cliffhanger, so I'll move straight on.

  
Thanks …

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CHAPTER V

Treading carefully, Hermione walked towards the couch. As she neared where Malfoy was lying, she saw a couple of bottles lying on the floor next to him. _He must have been drinking, consoling himself after his defeat in the Quidditch match. _It seemed he hadn't been the only one. The floor was littered with bottles and cans, all that previously contained alcohol. Crabbe and Goyle were sprawled out on a couple of armchairs, seemingly unconscious. 

Malfoy moved up on the small sofa, allowing Hermione room to sit down next to him. Nervously, she sat at the opposite end of the couch, avoiding his stare. She suddenly became aware that she had no idea how Malfoy and Pansy acted when they were on their own. 

"What's wrong babe?" said Malfoy, his voice slurred by the alcohol, "come over here." He offered his arm to Hermione and she, having seen Pansy wrapped around him so many times, shuffled over towards him and leant against his chest. 

She felt Malfoy's hot breath near her ear and closed her eyes as she felt him kiss her cheek. She breathed out heavily; she had only been kissed once before, and that had been by Ron in a Truth-or-Dare game. She had a feeling that this experience was going to be quite different. 

Malfoy kept kissing her, moving his mouth from her ear slowly down towards her lips. When he reached them, his hand rested on her other cheek, turning her to face him. Hermione almost pulled back, but didn't want to act suspiciously. Unenthusiastically, Hermione kissed him back. His lips, she found, were surprisingly soft and she raised her own hand to cup his face. 

She felt Malfoy pull away and opened her eyes again. He was looking into her eyes, a slightly tired look on his face. 

  
"Malfoy …." she whispered, forgetting for a moment that she had to act as Pansy Parkinson.

"What did you just say?" A surprised look crossed his face as he searched Hermione's eyes.

"Err, Draco … I mean." Hermione could have kicked herself, _how could she have let that happen?_ Draco, it seemed, hadn't paid too much attention to her blunder. He had returned to kissing her face and, beginning to enjoy the attention, Hermione tilted her head, allowing him to kiss her neck. 

Moaning gently, she allowed him to continue kissing her neck, before she moved her hands to his face, lifting it up to hers. Closing her eyes, Hermione kissed Malfoy and allowed him to move his hands to her back, gently caressing her skin through the robes. 

She liked the touch of his hands and the pressure of his lips against hers, yet there was a voice in the back of her head that wouldn't go away. _What are you doing Hermione, _it said, _this is Malfoy, your enemy._ She jerked her head, as she remembered who she was kissing. Malfoy was looking at her again, a strange look in his eyes. 

She closed her eyes and shook her head; she would have to be more careful if she didn't want to make Malfoy suspicious. Opening her eyes again, she searched Malfoy's face; _he wasn't as bad as she had thought he was._ His blond hair was no longer gelled back, and strands had fallen in front of his silver-blue eyes which shone brightly. Gingerly, she pushed a few of the strands away from his eyes and tucked them behind his ear.

Yawning, Malfoy leant his head against the back of the couch and, opening his arms, invited Hermione to lean against him. She willingly complied and relaxed, her head on his chest. 

With a start, Hermione lifted her head. The common room was no longer in darkness and her robes felt slightly too big for her. Suddenly remembering the previous night, Hermione gently lifted her head and found, to her relief, Malfoy was still asleep. Slowly, so as not to wake Malfoy, Hermione lifted her head and made her way towards the exit of the Slytherin common room. 

Having successfully managed to leave the common room, Hermione muttered to herself as she walked towards her own common room. She hadn't meant to fall asleep; _what if Malfoy had woken up?_ She shuddered at the thought. 

Entering the Gryffindor common room, the first thing Hermione saw were the sleeping figures of Ron and Harry. She had forgotten that she had told them to wait for her. She grinned, before turning to make her way back to the girl's dormitories. 

"Hermione!" Ron's voice called her. Swivelling on her heels, Hermione walked to where both he and Harry were now sitting rubbing their eyes. "Have you only just got back? What happened?"_ What had happened_, Hermione wondered, _she hadn't found out what Malfoy was planning._

"Umm, Malfoy wasn't really in the right state of mind to discuss plans last night," Hermione said, hoping she wouldn't blush. _After all, it wasn't really a lie; he wouldn't have been able to remember anything in that state._

"The stupid git must have been drunk after losing the match," reasoned Harry. Hermione silently thanked her friend, at least she was off the hook, for now, "but why did you spend so long over there, then?" This time, Hermione felt her face turning red.

"Hermione ….. you didn't," Ron paused, waiting for Hermione to reply. Getting no response, he continued, "please tell me that nothing happened last night."

Hermione didn't feel like answering Ron's enquiry; she wasn't sure, herself, what she had felt last night. "That really is none of your business, Ron," she said, in a matter-of-fact voice, before once again turning to go to her room. 

This time, however, she wasn't stopped. As she neared the top of the steps, she caught the beginning of the conversation which continued between Ron and Harry.

"You don't think ….." Ron's voice trailed off.

"No, she wouldn't. Not Malfoy. No …." Although Harry's voice sound convinced, Hermione could detect a certain amount of uncertainty. She couldn't blame him; she wasn't really sure what had happened last night or how she felt about it. 

Hermione, much to Ron's disgust, decided to wait a day before using the Polyjuice Potion again. They had been along to pick up Pansy and had had to use a memory charm on her, so that she wouldn't remember Harry's attack on her. She kept her eye on the two students that day, and planned, with her own two friends, what she would say next time she took the potion. 

Realising that they only had another eight days until Ron would have to meet Malfoy, Hermione decided that it would be best to get the information out of him as soon as possible. That night, at eight in the evening, she sent Ron to sneak up on Pansy and to disarm her. After he returned, Hermione gulped down the remainder of the Polyjuice Potion. _She would have to get some more from the girl's bathroom before going to the Slytherin common room, _she reminded herself, _just in case._

Hermione, having dropped off at Moaning Mrytle's bathroom, walked down the corridor that lead to the Slytherin area. She found herself uttering the same password as the previous night. This time, however, there were more people standing around in the common room. Most of the seats were taken and on the far side of the room, she saw Malfoy with his two closest friends, Crabbe and Goyle. 

As she neared where they were seated, Hermione heard the three boys talking about her. "Where's Pansy now?" She heard Malfoy's voice, "she's been a bit strange today. Last night, she was fine but today's she's been acting a bit distant." Hermione held her breath, _had they made the spell too strong?_

She was now standing almost behind the figure of Malfoy and glanced at his two best friends who had begun to snigger stupidly. "There she is Malfoy," Goyle's voice was thick and, as he said this, he pointed in her direction.

"Pans ….. babe, where have you been all day," As Malfoy said this, Hermione saw his eyes light up. _They really were quite beautiful_, she thought, before blushing red again, _had she really just thought that about Malfoy? _"Where have you been all day?"

Hermione walked around to sit herself next to him. She leant over and allowed him to kiss her as she had seen Pansy do many times before. Briefly Hermione remembered the previous night, and how she had responded to his touch. Drawing back from his kiss, Hermione smiled. 

"Sorry, I've been a bit distant recently; I've had things to think about, y'know." In her mind, Hermione crossed her fingers. It worked; Malfoy asked the question she wanted to him to.

"Like what?" Malfoy didn't look too interested, when asking her the question. _Oh well, _she thought, _at least he had asked_.

"September the thirtieth," she replied, searching his face as she answered. He grunted as a reply and Hermione groaned, inwardly. _Why couldn't he just come out and say what he was planning._

"I still don't know what I'm going to do." Hermione's head snapped around to face him. "I was hoping you'd be able to help me with that, tonight." Unless Hermione was very much mistaken, there was a small mischievous glint in his eye. A second later, his face broke into a grin, "don't look so worried," he reassured her.

Malfoy hugged her and Hermione relaxed. "So, what awful fate do you think should come Weasley's way at the end of the month?"

"Well….." Hermione thought, _she hadn't expected Malfoy to not already have a plan. _"You could just leave it." As soon as she had said the words, Hermione wished she could take them back. Malfoy, however, had a far-away look on his face; he hadn't even noticed. 

"It's got to be something that Weasley will never forget but," Malfoy paused, "but …. no one can find out I'm involved. I don't want to lose my position as Head Boy." At this, Hermione giggled, forgetting who she was. "C'mon, Pans, you know how important this is to me. If I wasn't Head Boy, there's no telling what my father would do."

"What do you mean, Mal …. I mean Draco". Malfoy shook his head, and mumbled under his breath. Hermione sensed that he didn't want to talk about, but wasn't going to change the subject that easily.

"Draco? Tell me," Hermione persisted, draping her arm around Malfoy's shoulders. 

"She felt his chest rise and fall before he continued, "You know that Luc – I mean, my father, has been hitting me at home." Hermione almost gasped; she hadn't expected anything like this. She wondered why Malfoy had begun to call his father by his first name, but decided now was not the right time to ask. Malfoy carried on, "well, he gave me a big lecture when I found out I was Head Boy; told me to keep an eye on Granger, her being a Mudblood and all, and that if I ever did anything to jeopardise my position, I would feel his disappointment."

Hermione looked stunned. She hadn't even noticed that Malfoy had raised his hands to cover his face and was sobbing quietly into them. "Draco, my dear Draco." She pulled him closer to her and cradled his head in her arms. _She hadn't never known anything of Malfoy's personal life, and until now had never been in a position to question him about it._

Suddenly, as though realising what he was doing, Malfoy pulled his head away and turned away from Hermione. She didn't question him or attempted to make him face her. They remained like this for at least five minutes; occasionally Malfoy would wipe the side of his face with the end of his cloak. Hermione assumed he was still crying but didn't want her to see.

Finally Malfoy turned to face her; his usually pale face was flushed and his eyes slightly puffy. "Oh Draco," Hermione sighed, pulling him closer to her, closing her eyes while she ran her fingers through his hair. Her eyes filled with tears as she held him against her chest.

The two seventeen year olds sat like this for at least fifteen minutes before Hermione excused herself and made her way to the bathroom. She had begun to feel strange, as though she was changing back into her original form. _I'll have to find out exactly what Malfoy is thinking about doing at the end of the month_, Hermione thought. Slipping into one of the small toilet cubicles, Hermione took out the container where she had stored some more of the Polyjuice Potion and swallowed it down quickly. That would last her another couple of hours; that should be more than enough time. 

She passed Millicent Bulstrode as she made her way back to the Common Room and flinched, remembering the Duelling Club when she had been in her second year. She and Millicent had been paired together and had ended up in a fight. As she shuddered, Millicent gave her a cold smile which Hermione attempted to return.

As she neared Malfoy, she saw that he was looking his usual self; his face was pale again, and his eyes back to their regular silver-blue colour. As she sank back down into the chair next to him, he smiled at her wearily. 

"I've worked out what we're going to do on the thirtieth." Malfoy's eyes lit up. Hermione frowned, she didn't like the way he had said _we_. Subtly, he leant over and whispered something into Hermione's ear. As she listened, her eyes widened and she allowed a small gasp to escape her lips. 


	6. Chapter VI

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Author's Note: Many thanks to Piggylette for pointing out my error in this chapter. I have about 3 different copies of this story and the one I uploaded was one of the ones that later got edited. Thank you everyone else for your wonderful and inspiring comments.

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CHAPTER VI

Hermione awoke the next day, in her own bed, a little tired. Her head was buzzing; she remembered clearly what Malfoy had whispered to her the previous night. _What was she going to do?_ Still lying in the dark, Malfoy's words repeated themselves in her head. 'We'll trick Granger into taking a love potion and make her fall in love with me', he had said, 'Weasley would hate his precious Mudblood friend to be infatuated with me'. 

Hermione thought about Malfoy had said as she got out of bed, got dressed and made her way towards the Common Room. _What was she going to do_, she repeated in her head, before another voice piped in. _Did she want to do anything about it?_ Hermione gasped; _had she really just thought that?_

She decided not to think about Malfoy, and almost succeeded until she stepped into the Great Hall. Whilst walking to join her friends at the Gryffindor table, her eyes strayed over towards where the Slytherins sat. Almost instantly, they rested on the figure of Malfoy who was saying something to Goyle. Her eyes stayed locked on Malfoy as both he and Goyle raised their heads and stared back at her. 

__

Don't look away, she told herself. She kept eye contact with Malfoy, blocking out the rest of the students, as she made her way steadily towards Ron and Harry. Reaching the seat next to Ron, Hermione sat and finally looked away from Malfoy. _She wasn't going to tell her friends what Malfoy was planning yet, she needed to work out how she felt first._

While they ate breakfast, Ron and Harry kept asking her questions about what had happened. When she continued to give them short one-word answers, the two boys soon got bored and left to return to the Common Room. As they left the Great Hall, they discussed the subject of Hermione and came up with reasons as to why she wasn't telling them anything.

"Harry, you don't think anything's going on between Hermione and Malfoy, do you?" Hermione heard Ron's panicked voice as they moved out of ear-shot. She grimaced, _they were catching on_. Just before she, herself, rose from the table, she risked a glance at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was still watching her; _how long has he been looking in this direction, _she wondered, making a point of walking slowly towards the exit of the hall. 

"Hermione!" Malfoy's slightly out of breath voice came from behind her. When he had caught up with her and she had turned to face him, Malfoy cleared his throat and started again. "Granger," he sneered, in his usual manner, "don't you think it's about time we met up again to discuss the Yule Ball and next Quidditch Match?" Hermione rolled her eyes, _how could he have been so different last night, and how could she have thought that it was going to last._

"What are you looking at?" His voice sounded slightly insecure, yet he kept his eyes cold and emotionless.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she replied, feeling her face turn a shade of red. "Meet you here tonight at eight?" Malfoy agreed and walked off, looking down each corridor that he came to. Watching him, Hermione wondered what he was looking for. Suddenly it came to her, _Pansy!_ _They had forgotten to let her out of the cupboard last night!_ Hermione's face dropped, _she had to find Ron and Harry_. 

Quickly, she ran down the corridor towards the Gryffindor common room to find her two friends. 

"Ron! Harry!" She gasped, "Pansy!" She spoke in one-worded exclamations with her face flushed, yet they seemed to understand what she meant. 

"It's alright Hermione, we took her out of the cupboard last night before you got back," Ron laughed, looking as Hermione smiled in relief, "she was a bit shocked and is walking around wondering who she is, but we think that'll wear off." Ron smiled, "it's not like anyone's going to notice if she's even the slightest bit slower."

Hermione relaxed as much as she could; questions continued to run through her head. _What if Malfoy spoke to her about his plans; _she thought desperately, _she wouldn't know what he was talking about. _

Harry seemed to know what she was thinking. "It's okay Hermione," he attempted to reassure her, "I'm sure that Malfoy would willingly repeat whatever his plans are, especially if they're really awful." Harry finished his sentence grinning, almost gleefully. Hermione glanced at Ron. He was looking into the distance, a look of panic spreading across his face. A pang of guilt hit Hermione; _maybe she should tell them what Malfoy was planning. It might, at any rate, control Ron's nerves_. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione began to relate to her two friends what she had been discussing with Malfoy the previous night. "And so," she concluded, "when I am under his spell, he will convince me to do something really bad to you." Hermione breathed in deeply, it had been such a relief to finally explain it all. She didn't know why, but all of a sudden her eyes filled with tears which soon began to roll down her cheeks. 

Ron, who had been listening, standing shell-shocked, moved closer to her and held the sobbing girl. She was uttering small words which he couldn't make out. "He's going to make me lose my position as Head Girl isn't he," Hermione said, lifting her head and wiping away a few tears. 

Ron and Harry didn't say anything, both were lost in their own thoughts. Hermione sniffed quietly and tried to think rationally. " 

I know," her eyes lit up as she faced her two friends, a fresh idea having just formed inside her head, "I could pretend to take the potion and be in love with Malfoy. Then I'd be able to tell you what he was planning and we can go from there."

She looked up hopefully at her two friends. They were looking back at her; both their faces sporting wide grins. _Thank goodness, now I get to be around Malfoy again,_ Hermione blushed, _why couldn't she stop thinking about him?_

"Hermione," Harry had noticed that Hermione's face was now red, "are you sure you're alright with this?"

"Yea, I guess," Hermione tried to sound uninterested, "I mean, if it'll help Ron." She looked around at her friends. "So, that's it then," she told them, "we'll start planning tonight."

The remainder of the day had passed quickly. Seamus had managed to turn Harry into a tomato, by forgetting to include an ingredient. Ron had laughed hysterically at his friend, much to Seamus' embarrassment, until Snape had informed him that he was to test Malfoy's potion. This had stopped his amusement instantly. 

"Sir .… I can't .… err …. I …. I can't," Ron had stammered, obviously worried about the possible outcomes. _What if I'm turned into a tomato_, he thought with a shudder, _or worse."_ With a small gulp, Ron had made his way towards the front of the classroom to where Malfoy was already standing, a smirk spreading across his face.

Ron's eyes widened as Snape ladled out some of the bright orange potion from Malfoy's cauldron. Bringing the large spoon up to Ron's lips, Snape sneered and said to the rest of the class, "let's all keep our wands at hand, should something accidentally go wrong."

Hermione had frowned; there had been something about the way he had said _accidentally_ that had made her shiver. She had watched as Ron sipped from the edge of the ladle and held her breath waiting for any effect that would take it's toll on her friend. The potion had been on that would change someone to look like the person you desired most. This particular potion was not a necessity for students to learn, but for some reason Malfoy had convinced Snape to let them make it.

Hermione had allowed herself to relax, _it seemed Malfoy hadn't had some ulterior motive when wanting to feed Ron his potion. _In amazement, she watched as her best friend's face began to transform itself. Her eyes had widened as suddenly the figure that had once been Ron, now completely resembled that of Draco Malfoy. 

Finding herself looking at an exact replica of Malfoy, Hermione was so shocked she almost fell off her stool. She looked round at the class; Harry had gone bright red and was looking away from Ron embarrassed, Neville was grinning stupidly in the direction of the front of the room, most of the girls were staring bleary-eyed at Ron. 

She stifled a giggle as she continued to look at everyone's expressions, until she reached the face of Malfoy. Draco was looking at Ron, a distracted look on his face. _I bet he never thought I'd most desire him, _she had thought before the real problem hit her. _The person I most desire is Malfoy? No, it can't be, there must some mistake, _Hermione shuddered as her eyes rested on Ron who was still standing at the front of the class.

Hermione snapped back to attention when she had heard the evil sneer of the Potions master in her ear. "And don't think that it's not true. This potion would never lie." Hermione snapped her head round, _how had Snape known what she was thinking?_

She watched as Snape made his way towards Ron at the front of the class. "And now," he said, looking around at all his students, "enough of your dribbling, we use the Jalube potion to restore the subject back to their original form." Snape produced a flask which contained a blue liquid. Handing it to Ron, he watched as the red-headed boy appeared before him. 

Hermione was still staring shocked at the place where Ron now stood; _how could she have seen Malfoy?_ Taking a quick glance at the Potions master, Hermione gasped. She thought she had seen a small smile cross his face; _had he seen anyone in the transformed figure of Ron?_ she wondered. 

Almost running back to his seat, Ron looked even paler than usual. Every set of eyes in the class followed him to the back of the class before the students, one by one, returned their attention to what Snape was saying. 

"And Mr Weasley should have noticed some strange effects going on whilst under the influence of the potion. Some say they see images of those who others desire," he sneered in the direction of Hermione, "others believe that that they become almost blind to the world 

around them."  
  
Hermione, upon hearing these words, froze. _Had Ron seen who she desired most?_ She looked at her friend out of the corner of her eye and saw that he had been looking suspiciously around the room. Intrigued by this, Hermione turned her head to face him, "how could you," he mouthed in her direction, his face screwing up in disgust.

Ron had not uttered another word to her that lesson, and because they had different subjects the rest of the day, she did not see him again until that evening when they sat down in the Great Hall to eat. 

"Ron?" she asked, "what happened after you took that potion?" She could see that Harry, too, was interesting in learning what had happened, even if he did look a little nervous. Ron began to explain that he had begun to feel as though he had taken the Polyjuice Potion; as though his body was being stretched in several different ways at the same time. He explained how his vision had suddenly become blurred, as though shielded by a translucent cloth. Then, all of a sudden, he had been able to see clearly again, but everything had changed. 

"Harry," he looked as his best friend, "you don't like Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw that left last year, do you?" Harry gasped and looked shocked, "only she had appeared in your place," he rapidly added. "And Hermione," he paused.

Hermione gulped, she knew what was coming. In her head, she begged Ron not to say anything; not now that they were surrounded by all the other students. 

"Well, we'll talk about that later." This made Harry choke on the piece of bread he was eating. Throughout the remainder of their dinner, he persisted to ask Ron who had been in Hermione's place. 

"It's not fair, you've just told everyone that I like Cho; you can at least tell me who lies in Hermione's deepest desires." Ron frowned, and replied in a short answer. 

  
"It's different; Cho's left Hogwarts." Harry grinned, _so they're still a student_, he told himself. _Who could it be?_ As he looked around the Great Hall, trying to work out who it could be, his eyes rested on one figure; Malfoy. _No, it couldn't be, but_, he added as an afterthought, _it would explain a lot_. He allowed a gasp to escape his lips whilst he frantically searched Hermione's face for any clues, _it was Malfoy, it had to be. Hermione had a crush on his arch-enemy. _

Hermione looked away; she was convinced that Harry now knew who Ron had been talking about. Deeply ashamed, Hermione lowered her face and stared into her empty plate. _At least_, she argued, _it was Ron who had tried out the potion. It could have been worse; Malfoy could have drunk it. _

Having just thought about him again, Hermione raised her eyes, allowing their gaze to drift over to where he sat at the Slytherin table. She watched as he ate his food, laughing with his friends. Occasionally his own eyes would find themselves looking in her direction and he would give her a small smile. Each time this happened, Hermione would look away, embarrassed and annoyed that he had caught her looking at him.

When back in the confines of the Gryffindor common room, Hermione realised with a start that there were now only six days until the end of the month. Harry and Ron were discussing their next Quidditch match in the corner of the room, the promise they had made earlier to Hermione forgotten. 

Sighing and shaking her head, Hermione made her way up to the seventh-year's dormitory and finding her own bed, rifled through her drawers until she found what she was looking for. Drawing out a piece of parchment and a quill, Hermione closed her eyes and thought about what she was going to do. _She would have to come up with some kind of plan so that she would still be in control of herself, _she reasoned, _but she'd have to be able to convince Malfoy that she was completely under the Love Potion. _


	7. Chapter VII

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Author's Note: The previous chapter has been replaced with one that doesn't have an error in it. I'm slowly getting round to posting all this, but it's going pretty slowly. Thanks for your continued interest and I really do appreciate all you have to say. Any more little mistakes, please let me know.

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CHAPTER VII

The next few days were spent peacefully enough; Hermione spent days in lessons and he evenings in the company of either her friends or Malfoy. Since the incident during the Potions lesson, Hermione had looked at Malfoy in a completely different light, yet she still questioned as to whether the potion could be trusted. 

The next Quidditch match had been arranged and the date was set for the first week of October. This time, Slytherin were to play Ravenclaw. Although both teams were good, it seemed common knowledge that Slytherin would win. As a result, each night, the Ravenclaw Quidditch team could be seen hovering on their broomsticks on the school field. 

The last day of September drew nearer and, when the day finally came, she sat down with her two best friends and finalised her plan. A few years beforehand she had researched into the particular love potion that she thought Malfoy would be most likely to use. There had been three; one was orange and lasted only a few hours; another was pink and would continue to work for a week. The final potion had been a deathly black colour and did not have a specific time period. _Lasts between one to six months_, the label had said.

After careful consideration, Hermione decided again this last potion; _surely Malfoy wouldn't want all that uncertainty,_ she had argued. Instead, she had convinced herself that he was most likely to use the pink potion; _a week_, she had reasoned, _would give Malfoy enough time to complete his plan_. 

Following this decision, she had read up all she could on the potion; discovered the way in which it worked, found out it's exact colour, and how it should be made. Her plan had been to replicated a similar mixture, that looked exactly the same as the love potion, but would not affect her in any way. With much help from one of the Hogwarts house-elves, Dobby, Hermione had made a mixture of grapefruit juice and food colourings. The mixture looked exactly the same shade of pink as the potion and Hermione was sure that Malfoy wouldn't notice any difference. _The only problem she would have,_ she remembered, _would be to distract Malfoy from looking at her, so that she could switch the two mixtures. _

Hermione had received earlier that day, and invitation to meet Malfoy in one of the unused classrooms in the East Wing of the castle. _Meet me to discuss the Yule Ball, _Malfoy had written. Hermione and her friends, however, knew Malfoy's real plan for this meeting, and by this time, were well prepared. 

A few minutes to ten o'clock, Hermione left the confines of the Gryffindor common room and made her way towards the designated meeting place. She had worn only a thin shirt and trousers under her thick black robe and shivered as the cold air hit her. She had hidden the small flask containing the harmless pink mixture in an inside pocket that she had sewn onto her robe. 

Stepping into the dark classroom, lit only by a few torches at the far end, she saw a tall dark shadow standing alone in front of the glass window. The figure was illuminated by the light coming from the full moon. The silver light shone off Draco's head, highlighting his own silver-blond hair. He was standing with his back to her and was, it seemed, completely unaware of her presence.

Hermione shifted awkwardly in the doorway, unsure of what to do. "Thanks for coming," a slow voice came from the figure. Hermione froze; _he couldn't have known she was there_, she thought, _yet, there was something in his voice; that sounded so lost, so alone._

Hermione began to walk towards where Malfoy stood. Within a few steps, she found herself standing directly behind the figure of Malfoy, a sudden overwhelming urge to gather him into her arms again overcame here, before he spoke again.

"I made some plans that we should discuss." He turned to look at her, "what are you staring at?" His sneering comments were back, and Hermione sighed as she followed him to the front of the classroom. Pulling up a seat beside him, Hermione peered over his shoulder at the small piece of parchment, on which Malfoy had written a few notes. Scanning the rest of the table, she furrowed her brow in confusion; _there was no potion to be seen._

"So, what do you think?" Malfoy's voice interrupted her thoughts. Glancing back at the piece of paper, Hermione quickly read the words Malfoy had scrawled on it. _Theme ~ Famous wizards,_ he had written. Hermione pondered over this thought; she wasn't sure that Malfoy had some underlying plan when he had thought this up.

"Well," she said, after some thought, "it seems good. We'd have to get it checked through with Dumbledore though. What about decorations and everything?" The two Head students sat, discussing for the Ball for the next few hours, until Hermione began to feel her eyelids droop. The next day was Sunday, and the students had no lessons, and Hermione was convinced that she would not cut off the meeting before Malfoy, too, was tired. 

Eventually, Malfoy offered her a drink, making Hermione sit up, eyes widened. She watched as he drew out a long bottle and a small glass. "It's a mixture of peach and Cochgrayne juice," he explained, misinterpreting Hermione's surprised look. He handed her the glass, watching her eagerly, and she took it, looking at it carefully in the dim light. Hermione's heart sank; the potion was neither orange, pink or black, but was green and shimmered with streaks of blue flashing across it. 

Deciding that the only thing she could do in the circumstances would be to drink it, Hermione raised the glass to her lips and allowed it to flow into her mouth. She gulped it down; the drink was remarkably refreshing, and made her feel light and floaty. Hermione shook her head; _what was happening? She felt so strange_. She felt a pair of strong arms around her, and forced her eyes open, only to find that she was lying on the floor looking into the earnest face of Draco Malfoy.

His words came to her as though said from a distance, yet they were repeated inside her head. "Hermione Granger," he said, in his slow drawl, "you have now totally fallen for me, and whatever Potter or Weasley may say, you will defend me and grow to love me." When he had finished speaking, Hermione felt her head drop back and come into contact with the cold concrete surface of the ground. 

"Hermione. Hermione. Can you hear me?" A warm voice came floating to her ears. _Where was she? Why couldn't she lift her head._ Slowly Hermione opened her eyes; half-expecting to find herself still in the arms of Malfoy. She was greeted, however, with the sight of Madam Pomfrey, Harry and Ron, all looking down at her with anxious faces.

"Oh, thank god! She's alive," she heard Ron's relieved voice, "I thought you were dead."

"Where …. am …. I?" Hermione's words came slowly; it hurt to speak. She listened intently as Madam Pomfrey told her how Malfoy had carried her to the hospital wing in the early hours of the morning, claiming she had slipped and banged her head against the floor. "When?" Hermione could only manage the one word. She quickly learnt that it was only the afternoon of the following day; making her unconscious for only half the day. 

"Malfoy, that …." Ron's irritated voice could be heard from the side of her bed. "Why, when I get my hands on him …."

"No, Draco was helping me, we were talking about the Yule Ball." _Yes that was right," _Hermione remembered, _they had been in the classroom; she had taken the drink; and then what….?"_ Hermione wracked her brains trying to remember how she had banged her head. No recollection, however, came to her and she closed her eyes, tired from concentration.

As their friend feel asleep, Harry and Ron looked at each other, it was unusual for Hermione to call Malfoy by his first name,_ in fact_, they thought in unison, _she had never called him that before_. Leaving Hermione in peace, the two boys left the hospital wing and, once in the corridor, began to talk in hushed voices.

"Okay, there's something strange going on," Harry said to Ron, "why would she call him Draco? Did the plan go wrong?" Ron shrugged; neither boy knew the answer and they would have to wait until Hermione was well again until they could find out her side of the story.

Hermione fell back asleep, weary from attempting to remember what had happened to her. In her dreamless sleep and she could hear a voice; _Hermione, Hermione; are you awake, _the voice said loudly. _This couldn't be part of her dream,_ she thought. Slowly she forced her eyes to open and, as they adjusted to the sudden light, a pale head came into focus.

__

Malfoy! She realised with a gasp. She felt her mouth drop open; he actually look concerned for her, and his eyes were redden as though he had been crying.

"Hermione, are you alright?" Malfoy's voice was full of concern. As he bent his head over hers to look into her eyes, his hair fell forwards and she could feel it tickling the top of her nose. Hermione held her breath, _he was so close; his breath was intoxicating._

Slowly, she breathed out, as Malfoy gently kissed her on forehead. She closed her eyes, remembering the nights she had gone to the Slytherin common room, before reminding herself that she couldn't let on that that was her.

"What happened Draco?" she asked, breathlessly. She still wasn't sure as to why she had banged her head, and she felt certain that Malfoy wouldn't give her an honest answer but at that moment, she just wanted to hear him speak.

"Well," he replied slowly, "you fell, I tried to catch you but I was too slow; when you hit your head, I brought you here." _It was a good excuse,_ thought Hermione, _now, if only she could remember what had really happened._

"I bet you did," raising her eyebrows as she spoke to Malfoy, surprised at her sarcasm. Malfoy, however, didn't seem too shocked; instead he grinned down at her. Quickly he raised her fingers to his lips, kissed the ends of them, before laying them down and walking through the door of the hospital wing.

Hermione lay there, stunned into silence. _What had just happened?_ She hadn't been able to stop herself from retorting that way to Malfoy, and he had just kissed her hand, _Malfoy had just kissed the hand of a Gryffindor Muggle-born. Strange things were going on._

Later that day, in time for Divination lesson, Hermione was allowed to leave the hospital wing, and she made her way quickly to the classroom.

"And just _what_ do you think you're doing?" Hermione snarled angrily as she sat down next to Ron. He and Harry had been whispering to themselves and had become silent when she had approached their desk. "I do not appreciate being talked about behind my back." With that, Hermione sat on her chair; her arms folded and her face wrinkled in fury.

Ron blinked; _it wasn't like Hermione to talk like this, unless he and Harry had done something to upset her greatly_. Giving Harry one last glance, Ron let the subject slide and concentrated on what Professor Trelawney was predicting for Harry's future. He laughed as the teacher, in a low voice, said, "You'd better watch out Harry. I fear ill tidings will come the way of you and those closest to you." He suddenly felt a sharp jolt in his ribs and turned to see Hermione glowering at him.

"What?!?" he asked, raising his eyebrows to protest his innocence.

"Trust a _Weasley_ to laugh at something like that," Hermione retorted. Her words were scorning and Ron felt his ears redden, shocked by her harsh tone. He realised, with a start, that the classroom seemed very quiet and he drew his eyes away from the face of Hermione and saw that the entire class was looking at their row of desks. The Slytherins, who sat on the opposite of the room, were staring, wide-eyed and gleefully, in their direction. One Slytherin, in particular, looked very pleased with himself, but Ron did not see this. 

Eventually, Professor Trelawney managed to retain the student's attention and explained the homework assignment she was setting for them; to predict each other's forecasts for the following week. Professor Trelawney proceeded to pick partners for each students, assigning them all a partner who was not in their immediate friendship-group. Harry was paired up with a small Slytherin girl who he had never spoken to before; Ron was matched with Millicent Bulstrode; and Hermione, much to Ron an Harry's disgust, was paired with Malfoy. From across the room, Ron could see a strange sparkle in Malfoy's eyes; _what had happened that night?!_ Ron thought for the hundredth time.


	8. Chapter VIII

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Author's Note: Thanks again for your continued support and I really am sorry for the delayed updating. If anyone wants an email sent to them when a new chapter is uploaded, say so in a review, and I'll do that for you. I've loved hearing your thoughts about what's coming up in the story. Keep 'em coming, and a million words of thanks and hugs ….

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CHAPTER VIII

Hermione silently gathered together her Divination books and made her way towards the place where she and Malfoy had agreed to meet. Before leaving, she sat on the edge of her bed, thinking about the day's events. _Why had she spoken so harshly to Ron,_ she wondered, _it couldn't have anything to do with the potion Malfoy had given her, could it?_

Still emerged in her thoughts, Hermione slipped out of the Gryffindor common room and walked through the now-deserted corridors of Hogwarts until she came to a barely-lit room. This was where she was to meet her partner. Hermione poked her head inside the door, which lay barely open; and, seeing that she was the first to arrive, entered the room and took a seat on one of the back rows. 

She sat and waited and after what seemed ten minutes, heard faint footsteps stalking towards the room in which she was waiting. A few moments later, the dark figure of Malfoy appeared in the doorway, his body framed by the light of the torch that he held. She could barely see his face, yet she could tell that he was flushed from running.

"I'm sorry," he growled as he walked towards her, "damn first-years wandering the castle at this time of night." Hermione inwardly laughed, _if there was one thing she would never expect from Malfoy, this was it : accepting proper responsibility. _She moved over on the bench she was sitting on, to allow him room to sit beside her. As he did so, he lingered by her shoulder; one leg over the bench. Hermione suddenly noticed this and drew her body away from his. _No,_ she decided, _she was completely in control of herself._

Self-consciously, Hermione looked at her books which lay on the table and briefly wondered where Malfoy's were. He had not put any on the desk, and when she thought about it, she wasn't certain as to whether he had carried any into the room with him. 

"Right, I think we should start on the assignment," Hermione said boldly, looking into Malfoy's eyes as she turned to face him. Turning her head back to what she was doing, Hermione lifted the heaviest book, which lay on the top of the pile. As she did this, she accidentally caught her chin on the edge of the hardback book. Instantly she raised her hand to the bottom of her face, where a small red mark had appeared. 

She hadn't realised that Malfoy had noticed this, a sly smirk playing across his lips. "Here," he said gently, "let me make it better for you." Against her better judgement, Hermione allowed Malfoy to shift over so that the two teenagers were only a few centimetres away from each other. Bending his head down, he kissed her gently on the red mark. His touch against her skin surprised her once again, and Hermione closed her eyes, blissfully. 

Slowly Malfoy began to raise his head, kissing just below her lips. Hermione breathed out slowly, opening her eyes. _Did she really want to do this?_ she thought, even though she knew, in her heart, that she wouldn't be able to stop it. Eventually, she felt Malfoy's cool lips against her own and gasped. 

Hermione kissed Malfoy back and began to run her fingers through Malfoy's smooth blond hair. She pulled him closer to her, clenching the material at the back of his robes. Gradually, she drew away from him, lowering her head to look at her hands. Surprisingly, she didn't feel all that bad about kissing her enemy; in a strange way, it felt almost perfect.

Malfoy sat opposite her; waiting to see what Hermione's next move would be. He wasn't completely sure if the potion had worked; he had only had the earlier Divination lesson to go by. Malfoy watched Hermione as she lowered her head, her cheeks reddening from what he supposed would be embarrassment. After a minute or so, he spoke.

"Are you okay?" he asked, surprised the genuine concern he felt when he asked the question.

"Malfoy," Hermione whispered, looking back at his face, "what happened that night, before I fell unconscious?" Her voice faltered as she completed the question, searching Malfoy's eyes. The room filled with silence; Malfoy, it seemed, was either unwilling to admit had happened or was thinking about how best to explain it.

"Nothing," he answered, "I gave you a drink, as you asked, and then you fell off your stool and banged your head on the floor." Hermione looked at him suspiciously, _that can't have been all that happened_, she thought. _But_, she reasoned,_ she had no proof that suggested otherwise. No one else was around that night_. 

Hermione decided to let the subject drop for now; they had work to do. Attempting to get on with the assignment again, Hermione shuffled away from Malfoy and opened two of her books. She began to read the long descriptions which she found in the book, aware of Malfoy's watchful eyes on her face. 

Suddenly she stopped reading aware of Malfoy's breath on the side of her face, "What are you doing?" she scowled, glaring at him. Malfoy jumped, subtlety, obviously surprised by her quick mood change. He moved back and studied the lines in the wood of the desk at which they sat.

Hermione sighed, _it didn't seem as though they were going to get a lot of work done this evening_. She could still feel Malfoy's touch against her own skin and, as much as she tried to reason with herself, she knew that she was powerless against him. "I think we should stop here; lets carry on tomorrow," she said abruptly, a sudden moment of decisiveness taking over here, "meet you here at this time, tomorrow night."

She got up to leave, placing her hands on the table, ready to pick up her books. As she lifted her legs over the bench, she felt Malfoy's warm hand resting on hers. "Till then," he whispered softly, running his fingertips up her arm. She pulled her arm away, confused by her mixed feelings; some of guilt, some of pleasure; before turning and walking rapidly out of the room.

Hermione didn't look back as she ran from back towards her common room, even though she had a feeling that Malfoy wouldn't follow her. When she neared the Gryffindor area, Hermione slowed down and memories of the last fifteen minutes returned to her. She shuddered, _whenever she was around Malfoy, something strange always came over her; clouding her judgement and affecting her ability to make sense of situations. _

Hermione made her way up to her dormitory and sank into the bedcovers, covering her face with her pillow. _Why had she said that she would meet him late at night again?_ She thought, punching her mattress angrily. 

The next day Hermione awoke and as she made her way down the stairs, she became aware of Ron's presence at her side. Turning her to face him, he spoke; "What happened that night, Hermione, I'm really worried." Hermione looked into her friends eyes; they were full of concern for her. She felt her heart fill with compassion; _if only she knew, herself, what had happened._

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione tried to brush off the question, "I just tripped and banged my head on the floor." She knew this wasn't what Ron wanted to know; he wanted to know whether or not she had taken a potion. "No," she said, decidedly, looking him in the eyes, "I didn't take any potion when I was with Malfoy." She skipped down the rest of the stairs, rather hurriedly, and walked towards the Great Hall. 

She managed to avoid her two friends for the remainder of the day; spending her lunch time sitting on her bed, thinking over what she had arranged with Malfoy for that night. As the time drew nearer, Hermione considered not going. _How easy, _she thought, _it would be just to avoid going, and give Malfoy some excuse as to why she didn't make it._ Discarding this idea, Hermione gathered together her books again and retraced her steps from the previous night. 

Once again, she found that she was the first to arrive and, walking further into the room, sat on a different row to where they had sat the previous night. Slowly, Hermione ran her hands through her hair, closing her eyes in frustration. _I will not let Malfoy control me_, she thought angrily. 

Presently, footsteps could be heard from outside the classroom, and Malfoy's head appeared from around the corner. He sauntered slowly to the desk and as they, once again, sat next to each other, neither teenager was aware of a pair of watchful eyes by the door. 

Silently Ron watched them, hidden by his friend's invisibility cloak; he had let his curiosity get the better of him and had followed her in the hope of finding out more about Hermione's strange behaviour. Both he and Harry had known of Hermione's research into the love potions that Malfoy might use. He hadn't, however, given the matter any more thought, until now. 

After the incident in the Divination lesson, Ron had thought that this had something to do with Malfoy's potion. But, he had realised later, that if Hermione was under the influence of Malfoy's potion, the way in which she spoke to her friends shouldn't have been affected. Hermione had snapped at himself and Harry, for no apparent reason, a number of times since that incident, he had remembered. 

He had told Harry of his concerns, but his friend had brushed them off, labelling them mood-swings. Ron, although seemingly letting the subject lie, was unsatisfied, and had decided to investigate himself. Harry had had to see Professor McGonagall that evening and Ron, seeing his chance, had taken Harry's cloak and had followed Hermione as she left the Gryffindor common room to meet Malfoy.

Following her down one dark corridor after another, Ron had walked, covered by the cloak. Hermione had stopped and turned, looking exactly through him. Each time this had happened, Ron had held his breath, although he didn't know why he had done this; she wouldn't be able to see or hear him. 

Eventually, Hermione had stepped into a room at the end of a long corridor. Slipping through the door after her, Ron stood, waiting, in the corner of the room. Ron witnessed Malfoy's arrival and his eyes widened as he slid next to Hermione at the desk. He could feel his blood rising, the ease and confidence of Malfoy as he slipped onto the bench next to her was astounding. _How could he be so sure of himself, _wondered Ron.

He could, even from a distance, sense Hermione's anxiousness. She seemed, for once, unsure of herself, not knowing what to do. Malfoy's eyes were cool and glinted in the dim light as he watched her intently. Hermione, during this time, was looking distractedly at her books and fumbling with the pages. 

Ron watched as Malfoy lifted his hand, cupping Hermione's chin in his palm and twisting her head so that she was facing him. Quickly he captured her lips with his, drawing her into a deep kiss. Ron's first instinct was to run to the two teenagers and to pull them apart, but he remained standing in the corner, staring in disbelief at the centre of the room.

"I predict that next week, my partner and I will be spending a lot more time together," Malfoy smirked, breaking the kiss. Hermione inhaled deeply; turning her eyes back to the books on the table. 

Hermione opened up a page and read aloud the positions of various planets in the next few days. She could feel Malfoy's eyes intently staring at the side of her head, and tried desperately to ignore it. Giving in, Hermione sighed, raised her head and stared into the silver-blue eyes that lay before her. 

Ron, feeling a sudden pain in his stomach, turned and left the room in disgust. _So, that was what was happening between Hermione and Malfoy_, he thought, running back in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but he had seen enough. 

Back in the classroom, the two students had broken the silence. "Well, Malfoy … should we start on the homework?" Hermione offered. Malfoy's attention was distracted. He glanced around the room nervously, before swivelling his body around to face the small girl in front of him. 

"Hermione, I need you to do something for me." Although his eyes darted precariously around the room, the tone of his voice remained arrogant and teasing. Intrigued, Hermione looked up, not allowing any sound to pass her lips. "My father," Malfoy continued, realising that she was not going to reply yet, "well, my father beats me at home." Malfoy's voice faltered as he finished his sentence. 

Malfoy, having finished his sentence, immediately searched the face of Hermione. He did not know that Hermione already knew this, having already told her when she was in the form of Pansy. Hermione's face contorted with worry, for the second time.

"Draco," Hermione gasped, "I had no idea." Hermione held her breath, as she awaited a response from Malfoy, _had she made it too obvious?_ Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione watched as Malfoy bent his head low over the table, resting it on his hands. "What do you want me to do, Draco?" she soothed.

"I'm not sure; I just need someone who'll be there for me, you know, when I need to talk." Malfoy replied, talking many breaths in between words. He was no longer facing her and did not see the look of confusion that flushed across Hermione's face. _What could she possibly do_, Hermione thought.

"Of course I'll be there for you Draco; if you ever need someone to be near just come to me," Hermione answered, without thinking. It was almost as if the words had just come out of her mouth at their own will. Had she been able to see Malfoy's pale face, she would have seen a sly smile cross his lips, which may have helped her to understand.


	9. Chapter IX

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Author's Note: Again, a million apologies. I really should update a LOT quicker and it's not through lack of thinking of this. If you want the whole excuse – my computer's broken, I've lost a lot of work and it's only now that I'm home that I can continue updating. Am going to stick up the next few chapters and then that'll be it for another two weeks but I promise I'll make it up to you during the summer months I have off from Uni. I really do appreciate all the comments you guys make and really hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me and maybe post a review or two ..?

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CHAPTER IX

Hermione awoke the next day, her head lain on a pile of books. Opening one eye at a time, Hermione squinted at the sunlight which was pouring through the window of the room. with a start, she realised that she must have fallen asleep during her meeting with Malfoy. 

Lifting her head, Hermione looked around the room. Malfoy was gone. _What had happened,_ she wondered, _where's Malfoy?_ Hermione scanned the room, looking for a clock and, finding none, abruptly gathered together her books and left the room. She darted inside one of the deserted classrooms along the corridor and looking at the clock, realised that it was already ten in the morning; she had missed almost all of her Divination lesson. 

Quickly Hermione ran towards the tower where the lesson was held, and bounded up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She burst through the door, slightly out of breath with her cheeks flushed. Instantly, the whole class turned to face her; their faces portraying looks of shock that Hermione Granger could be late to class. 

Hermione almost ran towards Professor Trelawney, who was currently standing behind the desk where Malfoy sat. She gushed apologises at the teacher who stood silently, watching her. 

"Well it's a good job, Miss Granger, that Draco managed to hand in your assignment," Professor Trelawney smiled, all anger had left her face. Hermione's jaw dropped open; she looked from the face of her teacher to that of Malfoy. 

Eventually she thought to look the pile of paper that was the homework assignment that she and Malfoy had handed in. In the professor's hand was a bundle of paper, on which she recognised her own writing. _When had she written that_, she thought, raising her eyebrows, her gaze shifting to rest on Malfoy. 

With relief, Hermione went to sit at her desk, next to Ron and Harry. She spent the last five minutes of the lesson, deep in thought; not really listening to what Professor Trelawney was saying. _How had she managed to do that assignment last night_, Hermione thought wearily, _the last she remembered was the conversation with Malfoy about his father. _

Hermione noticed Ron's strange looks in her direction, as if he knew she was hiding something. _He couldn't know that she had kissed Malfoy, could he?!_ Attempting to avoid his questioning eyes, Hermione looked away finding herself, once again, looking at the back of Malfoy's blond head. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Hermione; she hadn't given Ron a chance to talk to her and she avoided Malfoy. At the end of the day, as she sat on the edge of her bed, looking at a piece of parchment on which she had begun her Potions homework, she Hermione was distracted by a small noise. 

"Psst. Hermione," came a voice from outside the girls dormitories. The door was slightly ajar and she could see a dark figure walking across the gap, but she couldn't see who it was. Walking slowly towards the door, Hermione was surprised to see Ron standing there, nervously shuffling his feet. 

"We need to talk," Ron said, grabbing her hand and leading her down the stairs towards the common room. The sound of excited chatter floated to their ears as they neared the rest of the Gryffindors. Ron lead her forcefully to the far corner and pushed her into a large red chair. Hermione unconsciously rubbed her wrists, where Ron had been holding her, they had turned red from the amount of pressure that had been pushed on them. 

"Right," Ron scowled in her direction, "do you know what's going on with you and Malfoy yet?" Ron didn't want to let Hermione know that he had been spying on her the previous night and hoped that his question was vague enough. Hermione looked shocked and so Ron continued. "Well, you've spent a fair amount of time in his company now; has he done anything yet?" Ron was becoming more and more agitated with Hermione's silence. "Well?" he pushed.

"Nothing's happened between me and Malfoy. All we were doing is homework last night." Hermione saw Ron's unbelieving looks and decided to ignore them. Hermione took a deep breath, deciding to tell Ron most of what she remembered from the first night she and Malfoy had met. "He didn't give me a love potion, you know. It was a strange mixture; peach and Cochgrayne juice, Malfoy had said." 

Hermione watched as Ron's eyes widened. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but quickly shut it again. _No,_ she decided_, she wouldn't say anymore about her meetings with Malfoy, not just yet at any rate_. Ron, although realising that Hermione wasn't telling him the whole truth, allowed the subject to slide, amazed at this new information. 

The two teenagers continued to discuss, in hushed whispers, Hermione's discovery. Ron said he would look through some books to see what the effects of Cochgrayne juice were; he wasn't convinced that it was as innocent as Hermione thought it to be. 

Eventually; long after all their fellow Gryffindors had left the common room, Ron and Hermione retired to their separate dormitories. Ron was clear, in his mind, as to what he had to do. Hermione's conscience was not so at ease; she couldn't work out what happened every time she was near Malfoy; not only did she react in a totally different way, she now couldn't recollect any information after the event. 

Hermione found it hard to get to sleep, she tossed and turned constantly throughout the night. As her duvet slipped of the bed for the third time she swung her legs round and stood up. Tiptoeing, so as not to awake others who were asleep, Hermione crept up to the door and slipped silently outside, picking up a woollen dressing gown on the way out. Drawing the gown around her delicate frame, Hermione glided down the stairs. 

Stepping into the deserted, dark common room, Hermione shivered as she made her way towards the fireplace at the other side of the room. It was still burning low from when the rest of the students had left the common room. She huddled in front of the fire, watching the flickering flames as they rose. 

She didn't even hear the portrait hole as it was slowly pushed open. Nor did she hear soft footsteps coming closer to where she sat, her back to the entrance to the common room. Hermione froze as she felt warm breath next to her ear, and a gentle hand on her shoulder. Something inside of her told her that the hand belonged to Malfoy. Without even turning to face him, Hermione raised her own hand and placed it delicately on top of his. 

The stranger behind her gently kissed her ear, his breath lingering on her cheek as he moved his lips down to her neck. Hermione allowed a small moan to escape her lips and raised her other hand to entangle his hair. With a start, Hermione ran her hands through his hair again. _This didn't feel like Draco's hair,_ Hermione thought nervously, _but then if it wasn't Draco_…; Hermione turned slowly to face the student who stood behind her and emitted a short gasp as she realised who stood before her.

Ron stood before her, looking slightly dazed as though he hadn't realised what he had been doing. Hermione blinked a few times, trying to understand what had just happened. She tried to form words in her head, as to what she could say to him, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came out.

"I'm …. I'm …. I'm so sorry," Ron stammered, feeling his face turn bright red. He shuffled his feet, keeping his eyes on Hermione's face the whole time. _What had come over him,_ he thought desperately, _she would never feel the same way, and now, _he realised frantically,_ she probably wouldn't want to talk to him again_.

Hermione didn't move. She sat staring at the reddening face of Ron for a long time, thoughts ticking in her head. Eventually she sighed. "What happened Ron?" she asked, evidently still bewildered.

"Well, I think they call it a kiss," Ron replied sarcastically, the tips of his lips were pushed up into a small grin. The smile instantly disappeared as he registered Hermione's confused yet disgusted look. "Well, I'm sorry, I …. I'd better be going." Ron spun round quickly and retreated back to the boy's dormitories, leaving Hermione sitting dumbfounded on the chair.

As Hermione sat and thought about what had happened, the embers of the fires cooled down, leaving the room feeling cold and deserted. Hermione shivered slightly, wondering how long she had sat her, before retreating back to her dormitory. She slept effortlessly, her mind cleared of the days events.

Ron, however, did not have the same luck. Earlier, after his initial conversation he had returned to his dormitory, lain on his bed and had tried to get to sleep. This had been unsuccessful; his thoughts had been occupied by the vision of his best friend kissing Malfoy. Angrily, Ron had pulled on his black Hogwarts robe and had quickly made his way down the stairs and had left the Gryffindor area.

Silently, he had roamed the school corridors, listening carefully for any sign of Filch. He had not bumped into Filch but had seen something unexpected in one of the classrooms. Gently he had crept towards the door where he had heard the noises from. He heard a loud cackle which was cut off suddenly, before a flurry of whispers filled the room.

The room was darkly lit as Ron poked his head around the doorframe. At the far end of the room, silhouetted by the light of the moon, Ron could see two figures; one of a female and one of a male. Looking at his watch, Ron saw that it was one o'clock in the morning; _what were two students doing in a classroom at this time_, he wondered.

"Come here." Ron heard a rough growl from come from one of the figures, as he pulled the other towards him. As he did this, a beam of moonlight, which shone through the window, fell on his face, and Ron saw clearly the face of Malfoy. It didn't take him long to work out that the other figure belonged to Pansy Parkinson.

Ron's heart froze as he watched Malfoy capture Pansy's mouth in a deep kiss. _How could he do this,_ he had thought angrily, _even after what he had done with Hermione the night before._ Ron fought strongly against the desire to go and punch Malfoy; _it wouldn't help matters_, he reasoned.

Still watching from the shadows, Ron felt his stomach churn with fury and disgust. His vision was blurred as his eyes filled with tears of frustration; _Hermione deserved so much better than Malfoy,_ he thought regretfully, _why hadn't he told her, all those years ago, what he had felt for her_. He had known, but had tried to ignore, many intimate feelings that he had for Hermione since their fourth year at Hogwarts.

It had been at the Yule Ball before the Triwizard Tournament that he had first acknowledged her beauty and every day, since then, he had tried to disregard what he had felt. It hadn't seemed natural; Hermione was his best friend although the two had had many arguments, but he hadn't wanted to openly admit his feelings. 

As Ron had left his thoughts and focused on the scene occurring of him. Malfoy and Pansy's whispers were now inaudible and Ron, intrigued, crept forward, staying low to the ground. Crawling under a desk close to where they stood, Ron stopped and strained his ears. 

"How's the plan going baby?" he heard Pansy ask Malfoy, in a shrill voice. "You and that mudblood getting along just fine?" 

Ron felt his blood rise at her words._ What did she mean,_ he thought angrily. Soon he heard Malfoy's cold voice. "Everything's going exactly as we planned it," he sneered. "I'm guessing in the next few days Hermione will do anything and everything I ask her to."

Ron covered his mouth, stifling a gasp, as he watched Malfoy and pansy leave hand in hand._ He had to tell Hermione_, he thought desperately,_ she had a right to know this._ He had thought about Hermione as he had returned to his dormitory; of their first meeting almost seven years ago, on the Hogwarts Express; of their petty arguments, which they had had over the years; and of how he had felt about her since the Yule Ball in their fourth year.

As he re-entered into the Gryffindor common room, Ron shivered as the cool air of the room engulfed him. _He would tell Hermione in the morning,_ he thought, before climbing the stairs to go to his dormitories. As he reached the door at the top of the stairs, Ron paused. He had thought he had heard a shuffling sound. Creeping back down the stairs and poking his head around the corner, Ron saw a small figure clothed in a dressing gown, walk across the common room to where he had been sitting with Hermione earlier.

He watched as she glanced around the room and realised that it was indeed Hermione. Her face was pale and her eyes appeared slightly puffy._ She couldn't sleep either, _Ron guessed correctly. He sat down on the lowest step, watching as Hermione collapsed onto one of the large red armchairs. 

It seemed strange to him but Hermione sat stationary for at least ten minutes, staring at the large fireplace. _She looked so alone and weary_. Thoughts ran through Ron's head and, before he even knew what he was doing, he had started to make his way towards where she sat. He moved silently step by step, until he stood directly above his best friend.

After a moment's hesitation, he bent his legs, leant his head down and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of her ear. He felt Hermione squirm under his breath and moved his mouth towards her neck. He felt her hand in his hair, gently entwining strands of it, until she suddenly stopped. 

Hermione turned slowly to face him, her face portraying looks of confusion. Suddenly she let out a loud gasp, which would have continued to become a squeal if she hadn't stopped herself. Ron had jumped; he hadn't expected Hermione to be so shocked. _Could she have been thinking that he was Malfoy,_ he wondered, in the few seconds that passed.

Overcome with embarrassment, Ron muttered an apology, lowering his face so that he no longer looked at Hermione. He heard Hermione's voice falter as she asked, rather unsure of herself, what had happened. Feeling resentment towards his friend, Ron had bitten back with a sarcastic reply before turning on his heel and making his way back up to his dormitory. 

Now, lying in his bed, remembering the events of the last hour, Ron groaned and punched his pillow angrily. _What had made him act that way,_ he thought, his face turning red with anger, _did he honestly expect Hermione to feel the same way?!_

As he lay there, still thinking, a new thought crept into his mind. This thought, however, instead of bringing anger brought fear to Ron. _Now Hermione would never believe him about Malfoy's real plans, _he thought, sitting up in panic, _she would just think that he was saying it out of spite and jealousy._


	10. Chapter X

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CHAPTER X

The days passed slowly; Hermione and Ron hardly spoke to each other, other than when it was particularly necessary. Harry noticed the change in behaviour between his two best friends but ignored it, thinking they had had another of their petty little arguments. Hermione began to spend even more time in the library; the only place where she could really avoid Ron; and as a result she was hardly seen in the company of her former best friends. 

A week had passed before Ron remembered his promise to Hermione; to find out what potion Malfoy may have used. Seeing Hermione's retreating back after a Divination lesson, Ron ran from Harry's side towards her.

"Hermione," he panted, as he drew nearer. To his surprise, Hermione carried on walking and didn't even turn her head to acknowledge his presence. Ron continued, "I'm sorry, I completely forgot about finding out information about the potion."

Hermione stopped in the middle of the corridor, causing a few of her fellow classmates to walk into her. "I guessed that, Weasley," Hermione said spitefully, calling him by his last name. Having said this, Hermione turned abruptly, swinging her bushy ponytail past his face and walked off briskly. Ron was glued to the spot; he was shocked, _Hermione was acting so differently._

Harry eventually caught up with him. "What's happened now?" he sighed, referring to the disagreement he thought Ron had just had with Hermione. Ron explained to Harry what had just happened, being careful about what he said. Although he knew that Harry suspected him of having feelings for Hermione, he had not openly admitted it, or told his best friend of the kiss that they had shared.

As a result, Harry was even more confused that Ron. "So," he summed up, "basically Hermione is becoming more and more like Malfoy?" Ron blinked and turned to look at Harry, thoughts running through his mind again. _Could that be it?_ Ron questioned, _Hermione was under the influence of Malfoy's potion. Or, _he wondered, _was it something more than that?_

Ron knew he was unlikely to find out either way, but decided that he would spend the afternoon doing his own research. That afternoon, Ron slipped away from the common room and made his way up to the school library. Settling his books on a table which was isolated in the corner of the room, Ron scanned the shelves of books. 

As he looked, Ron ran his fingers along the spines of various books. _How To Slay Bobslegans ~ In Five Easy Steps; The Art of Discovering Groogehangers; 10 Ways To Master Your Transfigurations Class_, he read the titles, in his head, and almost stopped to pick out one: _The New Chudley Cannons Annual._ He stared at the book for a few moments, before allowing his eyes to wander on. 

He paused when he came to the Potions section. One by one, he pulled out the thick books, looking at their titles and, occasionally, their contents pages. Eventually he found two which looked promising and carried them back to his desk. Quickly he set to work; scanning the pages, studying the pictures carefully; looking for anything that fitted the description Hermione had given him: a green liquid with streaks of blue running through it.

It took him a whole hour and, in that time, Ron didn't find anything which looked vaguely similar to this description. He looked longingly at the Restricted Section of the library, a funny feeling welling up in his stomach; _I bet it's mentioned in a book over there_, thought Ron angrily. 

The Restricted Section required a note from a teacher at all times. When he had first come to Hogwarts, older students who were studying Defence Against the Dark Arts were allowed in as and when they pleased. When he had been in his fifth year that rule had changed; a student had accidentally left a Restricted book on a table. A few first-years had read the contents with undesired results. Following this, Dumbledore had said that all students would have to have a note from a member of staff and would also have to sign the books in and out. 

Ron gave up; _it wasn't likely that he was going to be able to find anything if the information wasn't in the two books he had looked through. _Picking them up, Ron carried them back over to the shelf pausing to look at the Chudley Cannons book. He carried on, placed the large books back where they belonged, and as he was returning to his seat, he picked out the Chudley Cannons book and carried it over to his desk.

He sat down heavily, opening the book's hard orange cover. Once again, he scanned through the writing and looked at all the pictures of the various Quidditch players and also of the different techniques which they used. He looked in wonder at the moving pictures; some showing the players aimlessly flying in the air, whilst others showed a game of Quidditch in action.

He didn't hear footsteps or see a figure come towards him until she spoke. "And here I was thinking that you would be helping me find out about the Cochgrayne juice," he heard Hermione say in a cold voice. He began to apologise and to explain that he had tried to help, but Hermione cut him off, "and to think I actually believed your little apology this morning."

Having spoken, Hermione turned and walked away, seating herself at the opposite end of the library. Ron stared after her, making a silent resolution to himself, _he had to find out what that Potion was._ He left the library having, after much deliberation, decided to sign out the Chudley Cannons book, and went quickly to try and find Harry.

As soon as he stepped into the Gryffindor common room, he noticed the large crowd that was standing around the Gryffindor notice board. He spotted Harry in the centre of the crowd, attempting to keep order, and tried to get his attention. Harry, however, didn't look over at his best friend, but was still trying to quieten down the rowdy group of students who stood in front of him.

Ron tried to weave through the mass of Gryffindors to make his way to where Harry stood, but soon gave up; every time he got a little further forward, he was pushed back. Eventually, Ron waited at the back; _he'd catch Harry later and have a look at the notice board himself._ He took a seat opposite the crowd and waited for some of the students to leave.

This they did slowly. Ron smiled as he heard many yelps from those who had had their feet trodden on by the students who were retreating out of the crowd. Finally, when there were only a few students left surrounding the board, Harry emerged looking both flushed and frustrated.

"What's that all about?" Ron asked his friend, as Harry sunk into a chair next to him, looking completely exhausted.

  
"Go and look for yourself," he said simply, and watched as Ron walked towards the notice board reading the bright orange notice which had been tacked on. _NOTICE FROM THE CHUDLEY CANNONS_, he read, hardly believing his eyes. _The Chudley Cannons? What did they want from Hogwarts?_ He wondered as he read on.

__

TRY-OUTS FOR THE UNDER-21's TEAM, he continued to read, _CANNONS OFFICIALS WILL BE VISITING HOGWARTS IN THE NEXT FEW WEEKS TO LOOK FOR NEW TALENT. _That was all that was written on the notice board, but Ron remained there for a few moments, looking at the notice in wonder. 

__

The Chudley Cannons were looking for people to be on their team? WOW! Ron thought excitedly. As he took his seat next to Harry, he turned to face his best friend in bewilderment. "Do you know what this means Harry?!" he stammered, a wide smile spreading across his face, "we have the chance to be flying with the Chudley Cannons!" Harry, too, had a smile on his face; Dumbledore had given each of the school team captains extra information about the try-outs. He wondered whether or not he should break his promise to the head teacher and tell Ron what he knew.

He decided that he would; as far as he knew, the two friends had no secrets between them. "The try-outs are in a week's time. It's being done as a tournament; Dumbledore and the Cannons agents are working out a schedule today." He watched his best friend's eyes widen with surprise and excitement. "I'll let you know anything more, when I find it out myself."

Later that night, Dumbledore had a special announcement for the Hogwarts students after their dinner. He cleared his throat as he stood up. "My dear students," he said in a loud voice which echoed around the hall, "you may have read the notices about the Chudley Cannons try-outs." 

An excited murmur broke out amongst the students as he spoke. He cleared his throat again, silencing the students. "We have worked out a schedule as to which team is playing who and when. The lists are to posted in each of the common rooms. Unfortunately, due to law and restrictions, students trying out have to be fourth-years or older. The school's team captains will compile a team list, which does not necessarily have to be the same as the usual teams. I wish each and every one of you every success."

As Professor Dumbledore took his seat again, the excited voices of the Hogwarts students rose again. Ron looked at Harry; his brow was furrowed and he had a deep look of concentration his face. _Probably trying to work out who should be on the team, _he realised, before making a silent wish, _I hope he puts me on the team._

He risked a glance at the Slytherin table and saw Malfoy looking please with himself, laughing with his friends. Briefly, Ron wondered whether Malfoy would have been given any more information about the try-outs. _Would Hermione have told him if she and Malfoy had been told._ He somehow doubted that she would have done.

When they had returned back to the Gryffindor area, Ron followed Harry who went to have a look at the schedule before retiring to the dormitory. From over Harry's shoulder, Ron saw that the first match to be Gryffindor versus Slytherin. He rolled his eyes, _of all the teams they could have played. _

Ron sunk on to his bed, which was next to Harry's. His friend was obviously deeply troubled and was thinking about the team he would want to put forward for the tournament. "I think," he said slowly, more to himself than to Ron, "I'll keep the same team as normal. We all work well together, we all know our strengths and weaknesses."

Ron kept quiet, a smile creeping onto his face. _So he was going to be on the Quidditch team, and have the opportunity to try out for the Chudley Cannons_, he thought happily. He hadn't noticed that Harry had turned to face him, "is that alright with you Ron?" he heard Harry ask him.

Quickly he stammered a response, getting excited even as he thought of the idea. He fell back onto his bed, acknowledging that Harry had left the room, probably to return to the Gryffindor common room. As he lay there, a thought came into his head, wiping the smile off his face. _They would have to face Slytherin first, _he remembered, _if they lost this game, they would be out of the tournament and all their hopes would be shattered._

They would be playing Slytherin in a week. Harry set to work, quickly checking that all of the regular team would be fine to play then. The spirits of the entire school had lifted; excited chatter filled the corridors as students went to their lessons, and even Snape couldn't keep his classes silent. 

At the end of the week, when there were only a couple of days left before the first match was to be played, the staff table had had an extra three places sat for it. Whilst many of the students suspected this had something to do with the arrival of the Cannons officials, it was another evening before they saw who they had been set for. 

The following night, when the students had entered the Great Hall for dinner, they finally saw the new arrivals. Next to Professor Dumbledore, and talking in hurried whispers, sat three men. One, the smallest and oldest-looking of them all, wore a deep blue cloak and looked anxiously around him as though something was about to hit him. To his left was another wizard who was the tallest of the three. He wore an florescent orange robe, to which he had a matching wizard's hat. He had, however, taken of his hat, revealing a shock of blond hair that stood up in all directions, similar to Harry's. The final new arrival, who sat between the wizard with the orange robe and Snape, was deep in conversation with the Potions master. As Harry looked at this wizard, he shuddered, suddenly feeling unsure of himself. This wizard wore robes of black velvet, but printed onto the fabric were a number of keen red eyes. As Harry watched, the small pupils of each eye looked around the hall at the pupils.

As the final few students arrived for their evening meal, the noise lessened as the students waiting in anticipation for Professor Dumbledore to introduce his chests. In due time, the headmaster rose and looked down fondly at his students. "I have no doubt," he began, "that many of you have figured out the nature of our guests. They are indeed the officials from the Chudley Cannons Quidditch Team, and I hope you will willingly accept them into Hogwarts over the next couple of weeks."

Very quietly, Harry heard a snigger and turned his head instantly towards the Slytherin table. Malfoy was sitting there, holding his hand across his mouth, as though Dumbledore had said something absolutely hilarious. Crabbe and Goyle were in much the same state. While Dumbledore talked about some of the formalities of the tournament, Ron also turned his attention to the long table at the opposite end of the room. he quickly noted that Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were sitting at almost opposite ends of the table and he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. _What were they up to_, he wondered.

"And now, I shall introduce our three guests." As Professor Dumbledore said this, Harry and Ron both returned their attention to the front of the hall. "To my left," Dumbledore motioned to the wizard sitting closest to him, who bobbed his head in acknowledgement, "is Mr Froupin." Harry heard a gasp from where Ron sat and quickly turned to face his best friend. Ron sat with his jaw hanging down. Harry chuckled silently, it was obvious that Ron recognised the name. He made a mental note to ask Ron for details later.

"And this," Dumbledore continued, gesturing to the wizard with the bright-coloured cloaks, "is Mr Lyfinkle, the current Chudley Cannons Coach. Although all three of our chest will be looking at each player's abilities, it will be Mr Lyfinkle's decision that is final. And finally," Dumbledore smiled at the final guest, "we have Mr Jekydson, the Vice Chairman for the Team." As he spoke, the wizard in the dark cloak, moved his head slowly around the room, glaring at the sea of faces below him.

Harry shivered again, as the wizard's eyes fell on his face; their gaze shifting momentarily to his forehead. Consciously, Harry rolled his eyes; _would he ever meet a wizard who wouldn't look for his scar within the first few minutes of their meeting_, he wondered. Harry didn't listen to Professor Dumbledore's final words, but instead focused his gaze upon the figures of the three new guests. While Lyfinkle and Froupin sat looking graciously at the students; the final guest, Mr Jekydson had bent his head and was listening cautiously to whatever Snape was muttering in his ear. For a split second, he thought he saw the two men look up and stare at him, but almost as soon as he noticed, they looked away.

Soon, Dumbledore dismissed the students from the Great Hall, saying only that the school's Gryffindor captains and the Head Girl should remain behind. Ron shrugged as he left Harry's side and walked out of the Hall, passing Hermione on the way. He gave her a small smile as he brushed past her arm, but she gave no signs of having seen him. He groaned inwardly, _it was going to be hard, over the next few weeks, to regain Hermione's friendship._

Hermione had, however, noticed Ron as he had walked past her. She had made a point of avoiding both he and Harry the past week. Since the incident in the common room with Ron, Hermione had decided both herself and Ron embarrassment by spending time on her own. She had also, over that period of time, thought a lot about Malfoy and the possible outcomes of the potion that he had used.

The day she had bumped into Ron in the library, she had seen him look through a couple of Potions books. She had watched from behind a large bookshelf as he sat down and, running his fingers along the words, had tried to find out any information. She had previously looked through the particular books which Ron had been scanning, when doing her own research. Hermione had watched as Ron had replaced the two large Potions books and, on his way back to his seat, had picked out a Quidditch book. From where she had been hiding, Hermione hadn't been able to see the title of the book but the large picture on the front gave the subject away. Feeling suddenly maddened by this, she had strode over to where her friend sat and had accused him of being insensitive and useless.

She hadn't had many opportunities since that time to talk to Ron and she wasn't sure if she was ready to talk to him yet. _He was bound to ask her questions about Malfoy,_ she had thought, and she wasn't sure that she was ready to face that yet. A low murmur in her ear interrupted her thoughts and she jolted her head sideways as she realised that Malfoy was standing behind her, leaning his mouth close to her ear so that only she would hear what he was saying.

"So, Hermione," he said gruffly, into her ear, "fancy meeting up tonight, finalising our plans for the Yule Ball?" She paused, aware of how all their previous meetings had gone. Then, as if an unknown force was controlling her actions, she nodded, silently agreeing to meet him.


	11. Chapter XI

****

CHAPTER XI

At the front of the hall, the four Quidditch captains, Hermione, Dumbledore and the three Cannons officials stood silently, waiting for someone to speak. Lingering at the doors towards the back of the hall, Snape stood, straining his ears to catch any information.

"That'll be all, thank you Severus," Professor Dumbledore said simply. The students turned to look at the Head of the Slytherin House who scowled before roughly pushing the door forwards and flowing out of the hall. Once he had regained everybody's attention, Dumbledore spoke again. "Tomorrow, as you all know," he said, glancing meaningfully at Malfoy and at Harry, "is the first day of the tournament. These three gentlemen and I have each received a copy of the team lists. Does anyone have any questions?"

The students remained silent: a couple looked at each other; Harry's gaze was, once again, transfixed on the face of Jekydson; Hermione lowered her face looking at her feet, still deep in thought. "Right then," Dumbledore continued, "We'll see the Slytherin and Gryffindor teams down on the pitch at noon." The students turned and began to shuffle out of the Great Hall. "Hermione … Draco … May I see you two for a moment."

Hermione spun around quickly; she had been wondering what the purpose of her being at the meeting had been. Draco, who was walking just a few paces in front of her, also abruptly stopped, changed direction and followed her to where the Headmaster stood. The three guests had left his side and were sitting at one of the long tables discussing something. Hermione glanced over at them before giving Dumbledore her full attention.

"I trust you two are well under way in the Yule Ball preparations?" Dumbledore looked at both Hermione and Malfoy. Silence followed in the moments afterwards. Hermione nodded whilst Malfoy didn't move a muscle. "Well…?" he persisted, looking to Malfoy, this time, for answers.

"Actually we were meeting up tonight to finalise the plans, we'll give you the details at the end of the week, latest." Malfoy replied, looking first at Hermione and then transited his stare to the face of the wizened Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded, signalling that they could leave. 

Although the two students left the hall in silence, they walked close together. Hermione walked quickly, not too sure whether or not she wanted to be alone with Malfoy, but he was only a few steps behind her. Having exited the hall, Hermione turned and began to walk in the direction of the Gryffindor common room; _she had to get out of Draco's company,_ she told herself again and again, angrily.

Suddenly, from behind her, she heard a rough growl and felt a pair of strong hands grab her own arms and turning her around. During the small scuffle, Hermione had shut her eyes, and upon opening them, found herself looking up in to the depths of Malfoy's pale blue eyes. His face was flushed, from the brisk walk to keep up with her, she assumed, and his hair had fallen out of it's place, thin blond strands entangled in his eyes. 

Without thinking, Hermione freed and lifted one of her hands to quickly brush away a few strands, and when lowering her hand, allowed it to linger a few seconds holding his cheek. She felt him tense up as he felt her cool hands against his skin. Gradually, Malfoy loosened the grip he held on Hermione's other wrist, and her arm feel limp at her side. Briefly, Hermione looked down at her hand, only to feel Malfoy raising her chin. She complied and watched as Malfoy bent his own head, eyes closed, parting his lips to kiss her. 

"Hermione! There you are …" From further down the corridor she heard Harry's voice, followed by footsteps that ran closer to her. Having also just heard this, Malfoy swiftly brought his head back and his eyes sprung open. Seizing the opportunity, he caught Hermione's hands again, kissed the backs of them tenderly and whispered to her to meet him outside the Great Hall in an hours time.

Hermione only just had time to nod in agreement before he was gone. The next second, hardly giving her any time to think, Harry came bounding up to her. "What was going on?" he asked innocently, "Malfoy not causing you any problems, is he?" Hermione quickly shook her head, relieved that Harry hadn't appeared to have seen anything more. The two Gryffindors began to make their way back to their common room. Hermione was deep in thought. Harry, however, hadn't seemed to have noticed; he was busily chatting about the Quidditch game he had coming up the next day. 

As soon as they reached the common room, Harry left Hermione's side and went to sit with the more enthusiastic Ron. Harry notice that as he spoke, Ron's gaze kept drifting away to look at the figure of Hermione who sat at the other end of the common room. He pondered over this for a second, wondering why his two best friends weren't talking again. Almost immediately, his attention was returned to the Quidditch match, when Colin Creevey came over to ask him a question about the upcoming game.

Harry, after recommending that his team went to bed early to get a good night's rest, followed Ron up to the dormitories. Quickly changing and pulling the duvet tightly around him, he continued to think about the game tomorrow. He was full of excitement, _this could be his big break, _he thought dreamily, _if he impressed the officials he could actually get into the Under-21 Chudley Cannons team._ Even as his thought, he squirmed with nerves as he remembered that he would be playing against Slytherin. _I hope Malfoy doesn't have any dirty tricks up his sleeve,_ he thought just before falling asleep.

The next morning, Harry awoke and sat up smiling. Looking around the room, Harry saw that Ron, Dean and Seamus were still smiling. He got up, deciding to let them sleep for a little longer, quickly washed and pulled his clothes on. He bounded down the stairs towards the common room, two at a time, almost tripping over a chair that had been left at the bottom of the stairs. 

Humming quietly to himself, Harry collapsed onto an armchairs and looked around the room happily. A few Gryffindors had also risen early and were sitting at one of the tables, playing a game of wizard's chess. One of them, a second-year called over and greeted Harry with a good morning, to which he quickly responded. _No one, _he thought to himself,_ would be able to knock the smile of his face today._

Gradually the rest of his House awoke and came down the common room. In hardly any time he was surrounded by students wishing him luck. Eventually he managed to shrug them off and walked, with Ron, to the Great Hall. Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table as they took their seats. The Slytherins seemed almost as excited as the Gryffindors; throughout their breakfast many of the younger students went to stand near to Malfoy, their House captain, pointing at him in admiration.

Harry smiled, shaking his head gently and looked away. _Things could have been so different,_ he thought retrospectively, _if he had been placed in Slytherin on their first day at Hogwarts._ Harry snapped out of his daydream as he heard the gentle voice of Dumbledore, addressing the whole school.

"Today is the first day of the Chudley Cannon's Under-21's try-outs. It is also Halloween and as a double celebration we will be holding a feast tonight, held here." Harry smiled; every day Dumbledore introduced the Halloween feast in much the same way. He watched as the headmaster turned towards him and winked, before turning his head away. 

He left the Hall early, wanting to take a walk around the grounds before he had to begin lessons. He had one period of Herbology before he was allowed to leave and prepare for the game. As he walked through the Entrance Hall and crossed the courtyard, Harry thought about the game. He thought excitedly about the feeling he got when soaring through the air on his broomstick, the satisfaction he would have when he beat Malfoy to the Snitch.

Harry was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice the sound of footsteps approaching him from behind. He suddenly tripped over something and fell to the ground, face first. Quickly scrambling to his knees, Harry saw that his attacker was Malfoy. He stood up, lifting his face to glare into the blond boy's pale eyes. 

Malfoy kept his gaze, unblinking. The top of his lips turned up into a cold smirk. "Better watch where you're putting your clumsy feet, Potter," he spat, "wouldn't like anything to happen to you during the game, would we?" He laughed a short, heartless chuckle and carried on walking.

Harry stood where he was, his eyes open wide; _what had Malfoy meant? Was it just another empty threat or had it been something more?_ As Harry continued walking around the grounds and on his way back to the common room, he thought about what Malfoy had said. He decided, after much thought, that it had just been Malfoy with one of the usual threats. 

Herbology was pointless; Professor Sprout couldn't keep the class under control. All the students were talking excitedly about the game, and soon she stopped trying to teach them altogether. At eleven, the students left; some made their way back to their common rooms to pass the time before the game, the Quidditch players all walked through the Hogwarts grounds until they reached the changing rooms.

In the changing rooms, the Gryffindors kept close together. They didn't change into their Quidditch robes preferring, instead, to talk about tactics which would be useful for the game. "We have to win this game," Harry repeated his thoughts to his team, "but let's make sure that everyone has a chance to show what they're made of." He looked around at the excited faces that smiled back at him. 

They quickly discussed final details, before the girls and boys separated. Removing his usual black Hogwarts robes, Harry pulled his scarlet Quidditch robes over his head. He sat silently on the bench, waiting for his team-mates to join him. Slowly, one by one, they returned each taking a seat on the wooden bench.

Harry smiled and gave his team a few extra words of encouragement before leading them over towards the door which lead to the castle grounds and the Quidditch pitch. Outside he could hear a loud murmur; _the whole school had already gathered in the area, waiting to watch the match_, he thought happily. _Hermione would be standing in the teacher's stand, where the three officials would also be watching, Dean would be commentating on the match, and he,_ Harry smiled, _he would be soaring through the air. _

A few moments later, Malfoy led his team towards the same door, and the two Houses stood opposite each other in silence, waiting for their cue. Harry glanced at his opponents team. Malfoy, like himself, had kept all his usual players. This hardly came as a surprise, but Harry smiled knowledgeably. 

Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, suddenly appeared at the doorway. She had come from the playing field and was instructing the two teams as to what they should do. "As usual, Gryffindor will enter the pitch first, being alphabetically first, and then Slytherin were finished. She blew a short sharp note o her whistle and Harry kicked off from the ground vaguely aware of his team flying behind him. As he whipped into the air and begun flying laps around the field, he could hear Dean's voice introducing each of his team individually.

As a second whistle blow was sounded, Harry saw a blur of emerald green emerge the changing rooms. Dean Thomas, in his usual fashion, introduced the Slytherins in much the same way he had his own team, but with much less enthusiasm. Harry grinned; he didn't think Hogwarts had ever had a commentator that had not been biased towards their own team. 

As he dived and ducked along the Quidditch pitch, he was aware of another broomstick flying close to the back of his. Turning his head slightly, Harry saw that the broomstick belonged to Malfoy. Not even wanting to think about what Malfoy was playing at, Harry suddenly swerved and lowered himself several feet closer to the ground. This threw Malfoy off for a couple of seconds before he, too, shrunk to the level at which Harry had begun to fly.

Much further down, Harry saw a small figure walking across the Quidditch pitch, beckoning down both Seekers. Malfoy promptly nose-dived towards the ground, presumably trying to show off some talent. Harry patiently lowered his broomstick gently to the ground and, although landing later than Malfoy, did not bump along the ground dangerously in an attempt to slow himself down.

Harry listened intently to Madam Hooch as she told the two captains that the match would begin in three minutes. Harry rose back above where his team sat ready in position. From where he was, he had an excellent view of the teacher's stand. Taking advantage of the extra time, Harry studied the stand. Mr Jekydson was standing next to Snape, who was still muttering in his ear; Mr Lyfinkle was excitedly looking from the pitch to the students that had gathered in the stands and then back to the players again. The only odd thing that Harry noted was Hermione's absence. She was not in the stands, where she would normally have been, and when he scanned the stands nearby, there was no sign of her there either. Harry tried to signal to Ron, but this attempt failed; Ron was too busy waving at the crowd to notice Harry's actions. Harry was not the only student to be looking at the stands. From further away, Malfoy was also looking, with interest, at Hermione's absence. His lips twisted into a small smirk; he could not see her.

Hermione was, however, at the Quidditch match, but had not yet returned to the teacher's stand. She had seen Malfoy before he had gone to get ready for the game. He had caught up with her when she had been walking alone to her lesson. Pulling lightly on the back of her robe, Malfoy had kissed her ear subtly. 

Whispering gently, Malfoy had leant close to her ear. "Hermione, I need to talk to you." She could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he spoke. Willingly she allowed Malfoy to pull her into an empty classroom along the corridor. The corridors had been full of students but no one had seemed to notice; they were all making predictions about which team was going to win the Quidditch match. 

"What do you want Malfoy?" Hermione feigned impatience, looking away from his pale face.

"I told you about my father hitting me a few weeks ago," Malfoy looked pleadingly into her eyes. Hermione nodded; she remembered only too well, "and," Malfoy continued, "you said you would do all that you could for me." Hermione closed her eyes, feeling Malfoy's intoxicating smell all around her. She nodded silently, still listening to his whispering voice.

Having received her full attention, Malfoy bent even closer to Hermione's ear, until his lips were mere millimetres from it. Gently, so as not to startle her, Malfoy muttered a few words. Hermione opened her mouth in protest before closing it again and nodding, obediently.


	12. Chapter XII

****

CHAPTER XII

Harry narrowed his eyes, watching the small figure of Hermione as she ran back up towards the teacher's stand. Her face was flushed and she looked guilty, although Harry couldn't see clearly. A short sharp blow on a whistle brought him out of his thoughts; the game had begun. As usual, Dean Thomas' voice was heard loudly in Harry's ear as he watched the game taking place.

"The Quaffle is up – possessed by Baddock – intercepted by Finnigan … that's it Seamus … you show those Slytherins – NO – Baddock has regained the Quaffle – changed direction – heading for the goalpost – Weasley getting ready – knocks it away with the trail of his broom – an excellent save from the fantastic Gryffindor keeper."

Harry grinned, glancing over at the teacher's stand. He knew what Dean was doing; he was trying to make the players of his team stand out in comparison to the Slytherins. He saw out of the corner of his eye, a small figure creep along the benches and sit next to one of the Cannons officials. He realised it was Hermione and sighed with relief, she had returned. 

"The older Creevey brother now tearing down the field – a high-flying Bludger quickly hit away by Patil – flying towards the posts – over Parkinson – round Crabbe – over Pritchard – go Colin! Near the posts," Dean voices drifted off as he leant over the barrier of the stand to try and get a better look, "he throws the Quaffle – he scores! GRYFFINDOR, TEN; SLYTHERIN, ZERO."

Dean's voice could barely be heard over the excited screams of the Gryffindors. Harry's grin remained planted firming on his face. Daring to take a glance at his main rival, Malfoy, he saw that the blond boy was glowering at his team mates. Harry almost laughed; there were only a few times when he had seen Malfoy really angry and he knew enough to know that this was one of those times. 

"The Quaffle in Parkinson's arms – Creevey comes into tackle." Harry leant over the front of his broomstick, still looking for the Snitch, but interested in what was happening in the game. He saw Dennis Creevey flying through the air towards Pansy Parkinson, who held the Quaffle tightly under her arm. He widened his eyes in surprise as Pansy darted out of his way in a very elaborate move. 

Judging from the sound of his voice, Dean was obviously shocked too. "Well – that was a very careless move," he retorted, as Pansy failed in her attempt to escape Dennis, "and Creevey back with the Quaffle – watch out for the Bludger." Harry could hear the collective sigh of relief from his schoolmates, as a Bludger flew past Dennis' head, missing it by a few centimetres. 

"Getting closer to the goal – closer and closer," Dean's voice was getting more and more high-pitched with excitement, "nearly there Dennis – and he sc – NO – Parkinson has come on the inside and stolen the Quaffle." Harry eyes drifted away from the action on the Quidditch pitch. _It seemed both teams wanted to impress and, in doing so, it wasn't highly likely that either would score many goals._

Squinting through the blur of red and green shapes zipping through the air, Harry thought he saw a glimmer of gold hovering near the ground. Aware of Malfoy's sharp eyes always on him, Harry didn't move. Instead, he studied the area subtly to see whether or not it was indeed the Snitch. At that moment, the game moved to an area just under where he was hovering, blocking his view. Deciding to take a risk, Harry flew quickly towards the other players, hoping the group would break up before he reached them. 

"And Potter – the fantastic Gryffindor Seeker and Captain is on a mission – gathering speed – flying towards the ground. Watch out players – Potter's on the war-path! And here's Malfoy – right on his tail – GO Harry!" Dean stopped abruptly. Professor McGonagall was glaring at him, silently punishing him for his obvious bias towards his own team. On the far side of the Professor, Dean could see Mr Froupin's excited face smiling at him, before he returned his attention to the game. 

Harry was still speeding towards the groups of players gathered in the centre of the field. _Break up; break up quick_, he thought desperately, as he drew ever nearer and considered moving out to dart around them. Luckily, Seamus had seen Harry rapidly approaching them and, taking some initiative, had grabbed the Quaffle and sped off towards the other end of the pitch. 

The other players quickly dispersed; the Slytherins chased Seamus, while the Gryffindors positioned themselves around the field. Harry took this chance to lean even further forward on his broomstick, in an attempt to pick up more speed. He hadn't realised just how far forward he had leant until he found his cheek resting on the side of the wooden broom. 

He could sense rather than hear that Malfoy was right behind him and had probably, by this time, also seen the Snitch. The sounds all around him had disappeared and he focused slowly on the small golden blur near the bottom of the field. Harry narrowed his eyes in deep concentration and pulled him broomstick tight to him as he pointed it vertically at the ground. Now, going down at an even greater speed, Harry kept his eyes on the ground which was ever coming closer. 

Scanning the area carefully, Harry realised he was only a few metres away from it. He pulled his broomstick back to it's horizontal position and stretched out a hand to grab the tiny ball. He wasn't even aware of Malfoy closeness; all he could think about was winning this game. _He had to win it, he just had to_, he said, over and over, in his head. 

Just as Harry was about to close his fingers around the Snitch, he felt a sharp jolt at the top of his arm, a pain which sent shivers of agony searing through his body. Harry gasped, unable to concentrate on anything but this feeling of pain. He closed his eyes and squeezed them tightly shut, willing the feeling to go away. 

In his last few moments of consciousness, Harry made one final effort to grab at the golden Snitch, but it sped off at the last moment. A quick draft of air past his right ear told Harry that Malfoy had flown after it. He tried to turn his broomstick in the direction that the Snitch had gone, but his arm felt limp and wouldn't hold onto the handle properly. Harry knew only the deep throbbing of pain as he fell to the ground.

Hermione looked on in shock. She had been watching the game, in silence, from the teacher's stand; her face full of fear and anxiety. She had returned to the teacher's stand just seconds after Madam Hooch had blown the starting whistle. Slipping silently into the stand, Hermione had sat on the end of the bench which she had reached first. Giving a quick smile to Mr Lyfinkle, she had sat next to him and had begun to watch the game. 

The game had begun relatively well. Dean was making his usual biased comments against the Slytherins, the Gryffindor players were definitely using some of their best moves, the whole school was cheering; yet Hermione couldn't bring herself to smile. The words of Malfoy still rang in her ears, _what had made her agree to do it_, she thought angrily, _she was putting her best friend's life at risk, and for what? For Malfoy?_ Hermione's face flushed bright red at the thought of it. 

She watched the game wearily, knowing what was going to happen. _If only she could stop the game somehow_. Even as she thought it, she knew it was a hopeless wish. This was, after all, one of the most important matches that Harry had ever played. Furthermore, this was the match that everyone in the school had been talking about.

She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, raising her binoculars so that she could see the action better. The first figure she saw through them was that of Draco Malfoy. Hermione gasped and jumped back; Malfoy was staring menacingly right at her. Hermione's lip wavered, _what was he so upset about_, she wondered, _she had done everything he had asked. _

Hermione quickly adjusted her view and, with the aid of the binoculars, looks around the field. Harry was busily scanning the field for any sign of the Snitch. She smiled; she knew that this was an important game for her best friend and that he was hoping to be able to get onto the team. she watched Harry for a little longer, a feeling of dread creeping across her heart, _what had she done,_ she asked herself angrily.

Hermione lowered the binoculars, listening instead to the clear voice of Dean Thomas as he commentated the events of the match. The whole school was cheering on the game and her lack of enthusiasm easily went unnoticed. Even Mr Jekydson had stopped muttering in Snape's ear and was watching the game intently. 

Gryffindor scored the first goal and the entire school, excluding the Slytherins, jumped to their feet wildly screaming Colin's name. The Slytherins, in their usual manner, sat glued to their seats glaring evilly at the Gryffindor supports who sat a little away from them. 

Hermione, having lifted the binoculars back to her eyes, focused on the figures of Harry and Malfoy who sat high above the game scanning the air eagerly for the Snitch. As she watched them she saw Harry's head jerk back. _He's seen the Snitch_, Hermione thought nervously, willing herself to believe it wasn't true. _Don't go for it Harry,_ she muttered under her breath. She knew her almost silent plea was useless. With one look at Malfoy, Harry dived towards the ground. Hermione mouth unconsciously fell open; Malfoy was right on his tail.

As Harry neared the ground, he began to pull the front of his broom upwards to straighten it out. He had reached out a hand, and had almost closed his fingers around the small ball. Hermione saw Malfoy shuffle on his broomstick and she held her breath, knowing what was going to happen. Almost too quickly, Harry had fallen from his broomstick, clutching his arm as he lay motionless on the ground. 

An excited yet nervous murmur rose from the stands full of students, the teachers looked down onto the field. Instantly, Professor McGonagall was running down the stairs from the teacher's stand and within seconds was racing across the field to where Harry lay. Hermione sat, silent and still, looking through the binoculars to try and get a better view. 

She was suddenly aware that the whole school had gone quiet; most peering over the barriers to try and see what was going on, and the Quidditch players, one by one, lowering their broomsticks to the ground. And Malfoy, Hermione realised as she moved the binoculars so that she could look around the field, had caught the Snitch, but was also returning to the ground, his face expressionless. 

Hermione felt her throat tighten; _how could he act so cool_, she thought angrily, _after all he had done_. Reluctantly, Hermione lowered the binoculars and, leaning forward, placed her head in her hands, sobbing gently. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder but shrugged it off, wanting to be alone.

After a few moments, Hermione wiped her eyes and silently stood before making her way down from the teacher's stand. Harry was still lying in the middle of the Quidditch pitch with an assortment of students and teachers standing around him. Hermione slipped away unnoticed, running until she reached the confines of the castle.

Not knowing where to go, Hermione slowed herself to a walk. Within minutes she reached the Gryffindor tower. "Fiddlesticks," she muttered the password to the Fat Lady. The door sprang open, yet Hermione didn't move. "Damn," she cried, pulling it shut and running back down the stairs. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Hermione looked around her; she was alone, the whole castle was empty. 

Without much thought, Hermione began to wander aimlessly down the first corridor that she came to. She was deeply immersed in her own thoughts before she thought to look around herself. She stopped suddenly, looking around anxiously. _Where was she, _she thought nervously. She had known that it wasn't wise to wander the corridors of Hogwarts alone, but in her state of misery she had completely overlooked this. Turning to look back in the direction she had come from didn't give Hermione much reassurance. She didn't recognise the corridor and she could see that at the end it split into two passageways. In her dreamlike condition she hadn't even noticed which way she had been turning, just that she needed to get away. 

"Why, there you are," she heard a cold voice from behind her murmur in her left ear, "I've been looking all over for you." Before Hermione had even had the chance to react, a pair of arms clasped around her waist, picking her up and pulling her into a room which led off from the corridor. Hermione was set down, spun around roughly and, once again, before she had a chance to even look up, was slapped harshly across the face.

From the force of the impact Hermione fell forwards on to the warm chest of her attacker. Her cheek stung and she raised a hand and held her gingerly on top of the growing red mark. Tears welled up in her eyes; not only of the pain but also for the fright she now felt. She didn't raise her head as she allowed the tears to flow freely down her face and, instead, stayed where she was.

After a few moments, Hermione heard a sigh and felt arms wrapping themselves around her. She felt a hand in her hair, gently taking hold of a few locks before letting them fall down her back. Another came lower, gently holding her in the small of her back. Hermione stopped sobbing and slowly raised her face, inch by inch. 

She took in the solid jaw, the thin lips pursed tightly together. Pale skin covered his face although his cheeks were flushed red both from excitement and a pain within. His eyes, a cool blue colour, expressed no emotion as he held the shaking girl. Hermione tried to pull away from Malfoy, but as she struggled she knew it was pointless, he was in control and he knew it. 

Malfoy looked down at her face, acknowledging the looks of both fear and denial that he saw in her eyes. Gently he brought one hand around from the back of her head and held it tenderly across her cheek. He watched as Hermione started, shocked by his touch upon the skin which was still smarting from where he had hit her. 

Hermione watched him intently, taking notice of all his movements, even those that his eyes made. She watched as his eyes darted across her face, looking deep into her own. As he touched her face, she jumped slightly. Hermione saw his eyes melt and emotion pour into them. Swiftly, he brought his face down to her level, turned her face to the side and kissed her tenderly on her cheek. Hermione eyes prickled again, _why did she act like this around Malfoy_? she willed herself to stop what was happening. 

Malfoy made small kisses leading up to her left ear. He noticed that she had clenched her jaw but didn't not stop. Slowly he allowed his tongue to trail down toward her chin before he gently took her bottom lip into his mouth. For a while, Hermione didn't respond. She was still deep in thought over the night's events and was shocked by his tender nature. Gradually, Hermione lifted her head and kissed Malfoy back. As the kiss went on, Hermione stood on tiptoes and, raising her arms, draped them casually around his neck. Encouraged, Malfoy lifted her up lightly and sat her on the edge of a desk. 

Neither teenager heard a small voice calling out in the distance. Still absorbed completely in their kisses, Hermione and Malfoy didn't even notice the door opening. "Hermi - oh," Ron's shocked voice couldn't utter anymore words as he just froze at the doorframe. Hermione looked away embarrassed and squirmed about. Malfoy quickly lifted his hand from where it had been creeping inside her robes to rest on the thin material of her T-shirt, and turned to glare at the intruder. 

  
"Weasley," he sneered, "come to join in on the fun have you?" Malfoy's voice was full of sarcasm. Hermione quickly elbowed Malfoy in the ribs, causing him to double-over in pain.

"Ron," she started as her best friend began to run out of the door, "Ron!" By the time she had reached the door, Ron was down the other end of the corridor. Giving up, Hermione sighed and turned back to face Malfoy. He was now standing upright, a smug grin crept across his face as he sauntered over to where she stood, one hand on her hip. 

Quickly, he whipped his arm around her waist, drawing her closer to him and held her protectively against his chest. "Hermione?" he asked her, looking for reassurance. He found none however, and frowned as Hermione pushed herself away from him and turned for the door.

Before fleeing back down the corridor, Hermione turned to face him once more, scowling. "Haven't you done enough Draco?" she spat at him. Turning sharply on her heel, Hermione walked quickly down the corridor, still unsure as to which path she should take. Half-expecting Malfoy to follow her, Hermione was surprised, yet slightly disappointed, that she heard no footsteps behind her. 


	13. Chapter XIII

****

CHAPTER XIII

Hermione wove her way through the long corridors of Hogwarts until she found herself at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She was met at the portrait hole by Lavender Brown, who was eagerly telling a first-year what she had seen happen at the end of the match. "That's right – we just fell, straight to the ground," Hermione heard her say. "Oh, Hermione …" Lavender fell silent as she saw Harry's best friend, "Ron was looking for you; they said you could see Harry now."

Hermione remained silent and walked past the two students. She heard some muttering from behind her and guessed Lavender was continuing her tale. The common room was full of Gryffindor students, all talking in loud voices about the match. It seemed she had been gone for quite some time, and they were to make their way towards the Great Hall for the Halloween feast within the next hour. 

Hermione, although approached by a few people, ignored her fellow students and made her way to her dormitory. When she reached her room, she threw herself onto her bed and buried her head in her pillow. Recovering, Hermione sat up and wiped away a single tear that had begun to roll down her cheek. 

She leant over and found, in a drawer, a piece of parchment which was unused. Picking a quill, Hermione started to write; _Dear Professor Dumbledore, _she began. She paused, choosing her words carefully, before she began again; _I know what happened today at the Quidditch match. Earlier today, Malfoy -_ Hermione stopped and put her quill down, _she couldn't write it, _she realised. _How could she? She'd be expelled and … and who would believe her?_

Screwing the parchment up into a ball, Hermione lifted her arm to aim it at the bin in the far corner of the room. _Better not_, she suddenly thought, _I'll burn it later_. She went to put it back into her drawer again and for this reason didn't see a shadow slip through the door and into her room. Overwrought with guilt, Hermione collapsed back on to the bed covers, closing her eyes and holding a hand to her forehead. 

Hermione felt rather than heard a presence beside her and opened her eyes slowly, allowing them time to adjust to the light. On the edge of her bed sat her best friend. "Ron?" she asked, surprised, "but what – what are you doing here? How did you get in here?" Ron didn't say anything, just stared back at her. "Ron, about earlier …. I don't know what happened, I …"

Hermione stopped; Ron was staring at her, a murderous glint in his eyes. Hermione gulped, "how could you do ….. do that? With Malfoy!" Ron spat, turning his head to look away from her in disgust. "I don't know what you're doing Hermione, or even why you're doing it, but do you have no conscience? You're best friend is lying in the hospital wing without any feeling in one of his arms, and you're off …. well, you're off with Malfoy." Ron couldn't bring himself to say the word, "you disgust me."

Without giving Hermione any chance to reply, he stood and walked out of the dormitory, slamming the door shut as he went. Hermione sat frozen on her bed; _Ron had a point,_ she realised angrily, _Harry was lying unconscious because of her and Malfoy and all she could do was mope around here._

Hermione got up from her bed and crept to the door and down the stairs. She slipped silently through the common room and only relaxed when she had passed the portrait hole. The corridors were still empty, it seemed that everyone had gathered in their own common rooms to join in detailed discussions about the earlier match. 

She slowed her steps as she neared the hospital wing. From inside she could hear a voice, muffled by the curtain which separated Harry's bed from where she stood. She looked around; where the two thin drapes met there was a small gap. Hardly daring to breath, Hermione moved closer and peered through the gap. She saw the plain white bedcovers of Harry's bed and tried to get a better view of his face. His arms were lying lifelessly at his side. His right arm, the only one she could see, was wrapped in plaster but a small amount of blood had seeped through. Hermione flinched at the sight. 

Hermione lifted her eyes from Harry's unconscious body. The sound of a small voice came flooding back to her ears. Ron was sitting at the side of Ron's bed, directly opposite her. His red head was bent over his best friend's hand as he spoke softly.

"So, that's all really," he said slowly, "Hermione is … is kissing Malfoy and god knows what else. I don't know whether it's that potion he gave her, or …" Ron drifted off. Hermione leant further forward trying to catch what he was saying. "I don't know, Harry - I just wonder what's going on sometimes." Hermione bent her head lower, before walking away back towards the Great Hall.

It seemed in the half an hour she had been at the hospital wing, the rest of the school had begun to leave their common rooms to make their way to the Great Hall for the feast. She entered the Hall and, without looking up to the other tables, walked straight to where the other Gryffindors sat. Picking a seat away from the rest of her House members, Hermione sat down quietly, not wanting to talk to anyone. 

"My dear students," Dumbledore's voice rang out through the Hall, "we all know what happened earlier today at the Quidditch match. Harry is currently still in the care of Madam Pomfrey, but she has every confidence that he will be fine, although it may take a while for him to recover." The Hall erupted as the students began to talk. Professor Dumbledore quietened them; "In the light of these events, I encourage anyone who has any information to notify me immediately. The Gryffindor-Slytherin match will be re-played at a later date."

Almost instantly, the Hall was filled with the noisy chatter of the students. Hermione blocked out the sounds and looked around the room. She glanced over at the Slytherin table; and her eyes fell immediately on Malfoy. He was looking at the food he had placed on his plate which was still lying there untouched. Pansy was sitting at his side, talking excitedly, but it was obvious he wasn't listening. 

Hermione picked at her food during the feast; Ron still hadn't returned and was, she presumed, still at Harry's side, where she ought to be. On more than one occasion, she was approached by a Gryffindor enquiring after Harry. She sighed and ignored each of them, even Ginny. She could see, when she turned her head towards the front of the hall, the eyes of the teachers on her, watching her every move. Finally she decided she had had enough. Almost knocking her plate to the floor, Hermione stood up and ran to the doors at the back of the hall. She burst through them and continued to make her way back to the Gryffindor area. 

She reached the portrait hole quicker than she thought she would, and through her tears mumbled the password. The portrait unlatched itself and opened a little. She threw it open and, slamming it shut, ran up to her room. She flung her door shut as well and paced up and down the length of her room. Her head was spinning and she couldn't get a series of images out of her head. Malfoy's incessant smile, Ron's look of pure disgust, the image of Harry lying motionless on the ground. 

Hermione sighed with deep discontent and threw herself onto the bed, not even noticing her top drawer was open. She sobbed violently into her pillow and tried to think of happier times. Unable to this, however, she closed her eyes tightly, in an attempt to get to sleep. The second she closed her eyes, she saw only the image of Draco Malfoy. He was standing in front of her leering at her, teasing her to come closer to him. Hermione squeezed her eyelids even tighter; she wanted to get away from him, but she couldn't stop moving closer. 

Annoyed with herself for thinking about him, Hermione opened her eyes and flipped herself over so that she was lying on her back. Above her was Malfoy. She gasped loudly and blinked; _what was he doing in her room. _Knowing she was incapable of moving in her shocked state, Malfoy took full advantage of the situation. In one quick movement, he placed one knee on her bed and swung the other one over Hermione's legs, pinning her to the bed.

"GET OFF ME NOW!" Hermione shouted at Malfoy, wiggling underneath him. This obviously startled Malfoy and set him off balance. Hermione, in a moment of control, pushed his chest away from her and flipped him over. His first reaction was to grab her around the waist and, as a result, the two teenagers ended up with Hermione lying on top of him. Hermione could feel her will weakening, and Malfoy knew it. He grinned slyly and easily shuffled around so that she was lying under him. Grabbing her wrists, he held her hands firmly above her head and glared down at the smaller girl.

Bringing her wrists closer together, Malfoy held them still with one hand, bringing the other lower to touch Hermione's face. "What's the matter," he sneered in her face, "am I not welcome?" Hermione froze, she didn't know what to do. All too quickly, Malfoy had bent even lower towards her face and when she opened her eyes, she only saw the silver-blue colour of his. Her breath caught in her throat as she willed herself to stay in control. 

__

What would he do? Hermione suddenly feared the Head Boy; he was obviously in control of the situation and they both knew it. Even if she called for help, she was unlikely to receive a reply; _everyone was still doing in the Great Hall, _she thought, panic running through her thoughts. Her mind cleared as Malfoy pulled away, although Hermione was not reassured. He kept a firm grip on her wrists, his nails were digging deep into her flesh. 

Malfoy brought his free hand to his chest and flicked it underneath his black velvet robes. He drew out a triangular flask and shook it gently. Hermione gasped, she had seen it before. Blue flashes sped across the green liquid. It was the potion she had taken the other night; memories came flooding back to her. 

Malfoy smirked as he lifted the lid of the flask, looking down at her. Hermione struggled against his grip, afraid of what was going to happen. Malfoy didn't even falter and managed to hold her still until she gave up. "That's better," he spoke slowly, talking down to her as if she was a child, "now open wide."

Hermione kept her mouth shut as he brought the flash closer to her lips and quickly moved her head to face the opposite direction. She heard Malfoy chuckle inwardly, he was obviously enjoying this. "A persistent one, aren't you," she heard him mumble under his breath. Moving the flask away from where it now lay against her cheek, he set it on the top of her bedside table. 

He kept her wrists secured above her head and used his free hand to nudge her face so that she was looking into his eyes again. He almost grinned as he saw fear flickering through her eyes, betraying her mood of defiance. He swooped down and pushed his lips onto hers. Knowing what he was trying to do, Hermione kept her teeth barred. _She wouldn't let him get her this easily_, she thought determinedly. 

Malfoy was getting frustrated; _Hermione could be so set in her ways_, he thought angrily. In a last attempt, Malfoy dug his nails even deeper into her wrists, breaking the skin. Hermione, against her own will, gave a small yelp in pain. At this exact moment, Malfoy drew back from Hermione's body and held her mouth open. Hermione moved her head vigorously from side to side, knowing what was going to follow. Malfoy's eyes glinted evilly as he picked up the flask and brought it closer to Hermione's lips. She had no choice but to allow him to pour it into her mouth.

Still determined not to let Malfoy get the better of her, Hermione didn't swallow the liquid, keeping it in her mouth. Worried that she might try to spit it out, Malfoy used his spare hand to poke her sharply in the ribs. The sudden unexpected jolt caused Hermione to gasp and consequently swallow the liquid. She began to choke quietly. Malfoy let go off her wrists and but she lay stationary on the bed, a familiar feeling creeping over her.


	14. Chapter XIV

CHAPTER XIV

Hermione awoke the next morning with a throbbing headache and a feeling of emptiness in the pit of her stomach. Twisting her head the left, she glanced at the clock facing her; it was half past seven. Hermione groaned loudly; closing her eyes in an attempt to block out the sunlight which was streaming through the open curtains. Holding an arm across her stomach, Hermione walked to the other side of the room and tugged the drapes closed. 

Falling onto her bed again, she caught a glimpse of a small white card standing upright on her bedside table. Intrigued, she sat up again and gingerly poked the card. It was a single sheet yet it didn't even waver when she poked it. Hermione knew instantly who had left it; Malfoy. In the bottom corner, as was accustomed, a small green serpent was stared out at her. 

Hermione groaned, remembering what had happened the previous night. _My room.__ 10 tonight. Yule Ball prep. Be there. M._ The letter was short, but Hermione had to read it a few times. She didn't know if she could trust Malfoy, especially after the previous night. _Would he try anything else, _she wondered, _or worse, would she let him?_ Hermione sank back into her pillow, holding the card to her chest. She fell asleep in such a position and was only awakened two hours later with the loud whispers of Lavender and Parvati. 

"How shall we wake her up?" Hermione heard a voice in her thoughts, "what's that in her hand. Who's it from?" Hermione's eyes shot open. "Oh, Hermione, it's – err – it's time to go for breakfast," Lavender turned to look away from Hermione's face; her own reddening. The two gossiping girls left quickly, leaving Hermione to wash and change quickly before going down to the Great Hall. 

She hurried down the stairs from the Gryffindor area, although knowing she wasn't particularly late. She was caught up in a group of first-years who dwindled their way towards the Hall, possibly trying to walk the slowest whilst talking the loudest. Hermione let an exasperated moan slip through her lips, causing a few of the younger students to turn their heads towards her. Ignoring them, Hermione wrestled her way through the group of friends to try and catch up with some of the seventh-years. 

"Yes, that's her," Hermione heard a cold voice coming from behind her, in the midst of the group she had just pushed through. "My cousin told me to watch out for her; nasty Mudblood she is," the student said, matter-of-factly. That voice was all to familiar. Hermione turned around to find herself looking down at a boy who couldn't have been more than twelve. Hermione recognised his face and, casting her memory back, remembered him as the small sandy-haired boy she had singled out at the Sorting Ceremony. Then, there had been something in his expression she had recognised, but now the resemblance was undeniably striking.

"And your cousin would be Draco Malfoy?" She spoke down to the younger boy, not at all intimidated by his cocky attitude. She wondered now why she hadn't realised before. Presumably Harry and Ron hadn't notice this younger version of Malfoy or else they would have said something. The young boy had grey eyes and, although his hair was a different shade to Draco's, it was clear that he was of the same family. This child had the same pointed features, the same sneer on his lips, even the same posture as Draco. 

"Yes, that's right, Accipiter Malfoy, which," the boy sneered, "I don't suppose a Mudblood like you would know means Hawk in Latin." Hermione must have looked unimpressed, because the boy suddenly spoke again; "Graceful as a swan, lethal as a serpent." She had only been in his presence a matter of minutes and already she could feel her blood rising;_ Accipiter was just like his cousin_, she thought angrily.

  
"That's it," she said, making her mind up suddenly, "twenty points from Slytherin for your attitude, and don't you dare let me hear you using that word again." Hermione was shocked as she finished her sentence, _she was sounding a lot like her mother._

"What word?" Accipiter asked, his voice innocent but his eyes glinted mischievously, "Mudblood? I can't say Mudblood. Too late!" Laughing loudly with his friends, Accipiter pushed past Hermione and walked towards the Great Hall. She could hear him laughing in the distance.

"A further fifty points from Slytherin," Hermione shouted at his retreating back. He made no movement to show that he had heard but Hermione knew he had. She shook her head; Accipiter got her nerves just as Draco had. _And just why_, she thought angrily, _did he expect to get away with calling her a Mudblood?_ Hermione was now lost in her own thoughts and she was no longer pushing through the crowd.

"Don't let him get to you." A voice in her ear made her froze. The warmth of breath tickled her cheek as he chuckled softly, "he's still learning." An arm quickly snaked around her waist, holding her tightly against his chest. Hermione sighed and, without even thinking about it, raised her arm, placing a hand against his cheek. She couldn't describe how she felt at that moment; it seemed as though all the other students in the corridor had disappeared and it was only her and Malfoy standing there, alone.

"Draco," Hermione raised her head, leaning further into him. _This was perfect_, she thought blissfully. Without saying another word, Malfoy moved his hands from Hermione's waist and began to walk away from her, in the direction of the Great Hall. Hermione ran after him, instantly missing his touch on her body. When she had caught up with him she linked her arm in his, trying to get him to slow down. Malfoy, however, only sped up. He was enjoying this; his potion had, this time, been a complete success; Hermione was almost totally under his control.

Pushing Hermione away from him roughly, he mumbled a few words so that only she could hear him; "be there tonight." He turned sharply, continuing on his way to the Great Hall. Hermione didn't follow him; the last thing she wanted was to have Harry and Ron see her with him. And then she remembered; _Harry was in the Hospital Wing and Ron wasn't talking to her._ Hermione changed direction, heading for the Hospital Wing. The door had been left open and Hermione slipped through silently. She could see where Harry lay, the curtains were still drawn, hiding him from view. Not knowing whether or not Madam Pomfrey was around, Hermione tiptoed closer to where Harry's bed as. She gradually pulled back the drapes and gasped.

Harry was staring straight back at up at her. She muttered his name in surprise, she hadn't known he had been awake. "Oh, Hermione." Harry sounded surprised, and she raised an eyebrow in curiosity. He continued, "I was expecting Ron, he said he'd come along." As Harry spoke his friend's name, he lowered his eyes, evidently avoiding her stare. Hermione instantly noticed this and pondered as to whether she should mention it's possible cause. 

Harry said no more, looking intently at the edge of his pillow. In his first few minutes of regained consciousness, Ron had told him all that he had known. Harry had learnt about the potion, about the kiss shared between Hermione and Malfoy, and also that his two best friends were no longer talking. 

The silence lasted a while, neither teenager wanted to break the stillness. Finally Hermione spoke, but only in short bursts. "Has he - I mean Ron, has he - well, has he said anything to you?" Harry, in any other situation, would have laughed at even the thought of Hermione speaking in such a way, but knew better than to do that now. Instead, he sighed before turning and lifting his head to face her.

"Hermione. I need to hear it from you. What happened that first night? And what's happening between you and Malfoy now?" Harry looked almost disgusted with himself for having to say Malfoy's name. He looked up eagerly into his best friend's eyes, pleading with her to tell him that Ron had been wrong. His hopes were diminished, however, when Hermione lowered her head, desperately trying to avoid his gaze. 

"Yes," Hermione began slowly, "He did give me a potion that night, but I still haven't found out anything more." Hermione debated over whether or not to tell Harry about what had happened the previous night. "And last night, he forced me to take it again." Hermione didn't know why she had told Harry this, she knew how he would react. 

Sitting up quickly, Harry squeezed his hands into tight fists. "Wait till I get my hands on him, I'll beat him to a pulp; he'll never even set foot on a Quidditch pitch again. With that, Harry tried, in a desperate attempt, to stand. He managed to swing his legs around so that they were dangling off the side of the bed but when he tried to stand, he was struck by a spell of dizziness. Hermione ran to help him and managed to direct him back to the bed. He landed on the bed with a soft thump and scowled. 

He closed his eyes as Hermione fussed around him. She fluffed up his pillows and helped him slip back under the duvet. She pulled the bedcovers up to his chin and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Don't worry Harry; I know what I'm doing. I'm fine." Harry only scowled at her, not believing a word of what she said. Hermione sighed and left Harry to his thoughts.

Hermione walked past the Great Hall, without even looking through the doors to see if Ron was there. She knew she had about twenty minutes before her first lesson of the day, Potions, but she decided she would walk slowly towards Snape's dungeon. She reached the dungeon within ten minutes and leant against the stone wall of the corridor, deep in her own thoughts. She thought of Malfoy and the way he had given her the potion the night before; she thought of Harry and the disappointment on his face when she had told him the truth and finally, she thought of Ron and their argument. 

The time before the lesson sped past quickly. Slowly, the Gryffindors and Slytherins who took the class gathered in the corridor outside of the dungeon. Hermione could see Ron standing with Parvati and Lavender, looking thoroughly bored as the two girls gossiped and giggled together. 

The class began to disperse into the Potions dungeon and sat at their various desks. Hermione walked towards the back of the classroom where she usually sat with Harry and Ron. She laid her books neatly on the desk and waited for Ron to join her. After a few moments, having not seen her best friend, Hermione looked around the room. She could see the back of his head sitting a few rows in front, next to Parvati. 

Hermione frowned, _Ron was still angry at her._ She opened up one of her books and listened to Snape's instructions. Today, they were to make a relatively simple potion, one that would change a person's hair colour for two days. She studied the ingredients that were listed on the page and walked towards the front of the room to collect what she needed from Snape's desk. She passed Malfoy on the way and was immediately aware of his eyes on her. An overwhelming urge to go over to him suddenly came over here. She turned her head, but carried on walking. 

Malfoy was watching her intently, ignoring what Pansy was whispering in his other ear. His eyes followed her as she watched past him, up to the front desk and then back to her empty desk again. He smirked at her retreating back before returning his attention to his girlfriend. Taking his time, he stood slowly, after all the other students had collected their ingredients, and sauntered up to the Professor's desk. 

"Mr Malfoy. A word please." Snape spoke quietly to his student. Malfoy blinked, obviously shocked, as she walked round to the other side of the desk. Snape remained sitting in his chair and nodded his head, indicating for Malfoy to sit in the chair next to him. "Mr Malfoy," the Professor began again, quietly, "something of an urgent matter has recently come to my attention." Malfoy held his breath; he knew what was coming, "A bottle of Cochgrayne Juice has gone missing from my private stores."

Malfoy looked up at the Professor, debating his options; he could lie and say that there was no way that Snape would be able to prove it was him. Alternatively, he could admit to it and just say it was part of an experiment, to which Hermione had agreed to. He decided on the latter, but Snape spoke out before Malfoy had the chance to open his mouth.

"And don't tell me that you were just trying to see the effects it would have; that will not work this time. I want the truth, Draco." Malfoy sat, frozen in his seat, wracking his brains. _Even though Snape hated Gryffindors and held a grudge against Hermione_, Malfoy thought, _there was no way that he would condone the misuse of a potion._

"Professor … I, well, you see," Malfoy stuttered, thinking as he spoke. "It was him, over there," Malfoy nodded in Crabbe's direction, "he had an idea that the Juice would make one of the younger Slytherins do anything he wanted." Malfoy held his breath, waiting for a reaction from Snape. He would talk to his friend later but he was certain that Crabbe would have no objections to taking the blame for anything he had done.

Snape narrowed his eyes in suspicion. _Malfoy's__ story_, he thought, _was highly unlikely._ The Professor had his own suspicions over the real culprit; he had seen the way Hermione had been compelled to look at the Slytherin as she had passed his desk, and he had also seen Malfoy's smirk. The Professor also knew enough of his students to know that of Malfoy's rather clumsy entourage, both Crabbe and Goyle would take the blame for anything he had done. Snape excused Malfoy and watched as the student strolled back to his place. 

Pansy immediately leant over him, wrapping her arms around his neck and roughly licking his ear. Malfoy, annoyed by her actions, pushed her away from him and bent his head over his book. Handing two of the ingredients over to Pansy to put into the cauldron, Malfoy risked a glance at Snape. The sullen-faced Professor was now looking at Hermione, staring at her with his eyebrows raised.

For a second, Snape's eyes flickered over her features before he stood and began to walk around the classroom. The first desk he came to was Malfoy's and he stood behind it, inspecting their potion. He leant down and whispered quietly in Malfoy's ear; "I know, Mr Malfoy; just don't let it get out of control." 

Malfoy didn't move until long after Snape had moved on to inspect the next cauldron. He breathed out heavily, "what was that about, Draco?" Pansy's thick voice floated up to his ears. He turned to face her and shook his head gently, letting her know that he wasn't going to talk about it.

Hermione sat at the back of the dungeon, working silently and stealthily on her own potion. She had strained her ears, trying to hear what was being said, when Malfoy had joined Snape at the front of the room. This had, however, been in vain and, instead, she had stared at the two trying to work out what they were talking about. As soon as she had thought it, she had almost shaken herself; _of course they weren't going to be talking about the potion, how would Snape know and why would he blame his favourite student?_ she thought.

Convinced that they were discussing Malfoy's grades or something similar, Hermione studied her book and began to prepare her ingredients. She poured a couple of mixtures into her cauldron and watched as they bubbled furiously. She peeked up at Malfoy again; he was back in his seat with Pansy wrapped around him, but was staring at the Professor. She, too, directed her gaze in Snape's direction. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling; he was looking straight at her. Defiantly, she stared back at him, daring him to be the one to break the gaze. 

Eventually, Snape looked away and rose from his desk to walk around the room checking on his students. Hermione stood and looked into her cauldron. She stirred the thickening mixture whilst still watching Snape's movements. He went first to inspect Malfoy and Pansy's potion and stood behind them. From where she was positioned, Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she saw Snape bend his head to Malfoy's ear and whisper something. 

Snape took one last look at Malfoy and Pansy's cauldron and then moved on to examine Crabbe and Goyle's. Hermione glanced back at her own potion; it had stopped bubbling. She looked back at the book and read what it said; _Potion should bubble for at least ten minutes._ Looking at the clock on the wall, Hermione saw that it had been only three minutes since she had put the two liquids into the cauldron.

Hermione furrowed her brow; something had gone wrong. Snape had been standing a few desks in front of her and had caught her confused look. He had made his way instantly to her side and, looking into the cauldron, had tried hard not to snigger out loud. He knew instantly what had happened; she used the wrong mixture and had probably put it into the cauldron in the wrong order.

"I would suggest you pay a little more attention, Miss Granger," he said haughtily, "I would not expect a student like you to use the ingredients in the wrong order." Hermione lowered her head, feeling a blush creeping over face. "I should take points from Gryffindor for this, but I will leave it at a warning, this one time; and," he continued, flicking his eyes over to Malfoy, "try not to be so distracted."

He turned and walked away, leaving Hermione standing there, stunned. _He knew,_ she thought, _but he wasn't going to do anything about it. _Hermione clenched her fists and gripped the edge of the table. Ron had turned to face her, obviously interested in what Snape was saying to her. She scowled at him, not wanting him to know that she hadn't been able to get the potion right. Eventually he turned back to his own cauldron and Hermione begun the process of sorting out her own. 

The rest of the Potions lesson passed without any more interruptions; other than Neville knocking over his cauldron, spilling it's contents over the stone floor. As soon as the lesson ended, Hermione left the room and walked quickly towards the Gryffindor area. She didn't want to see Ron; nor did she want to find herself walking alongside Malfoy.


	15. Chapter XV

_**I haven't read these chapters over in a good couple of years  
but I found them pretty recently and thought why not  
continue reposting. I am hoping to continue with this but  
in the meantime, here goes … **_

Sorry for the typos …

****

CHAPTER XV

In the Gryffindor common room, Hermione relaxed, sinking low into one of the armchairs. She was aware of the voices of her fellow Gryffindors growing louder as they got closer but, sinking even lower, Hermione hid from view. the voices began to disperse around the room as pairs and small groups of students positioned themselves in various parts of the large common room.

"Hermione?" A soft voice interrupted her thoughts, "Professor Dumbledore wanted me to give this to you at breakfast. You weren't in the Hall." Lavender looked down at her Head Girl, waiting for a reply. She got none, however, and hander the envelope silently to Hermione and walked back to where Parvati stood with Ron. Hermione watched her leave, allowing her eyes to make contact with Ron's. He looked down at the floor instantly and she sighed, annoyed with both herself and with her best friend.

Taking the envelope with her, Hermione climbed the stairs to her dormitory. She sat herself on the bed, drew her knees up to her chest and opened the crisp white envelope. Inside was a single sheet of parchment. In the top right corner was a image of the Hogwarts crest and filling the page was Dumbledore's tidy handwriting.

_Dear Hermione,_ she read, _the Yule Ball is to be held within the next two months. Please finalise any plans with Draco Malfoy over the following week. I expect to hear of the final details no later than November 7th. Thank you for your co-operation. Professor Dumbledore. _

Hermione wracked her brains; _today was the first of the month,_ she worked out quickly, _that gave her and Malfoy exactly a week to plan the Ball and let Dumbledore know. _Hermione relaxed; she didn't have anything to worry about; she was meeting Malfoy that night and she could easily spare another few hours during the week; they would be finished by the seventh.

She left the common room to go to the library. Settling down quietly at a desk at the front, Hermione pulled out her Potions book and unrolled a piece of parchment. She licked the end of the quill, dipped it into a pot of ink and held it poised above the parchment. She chewed the end of the quill lightly, thinking about what she was going to write. Snape had given her and Neville extra work to do because of their mistakes in the lesson. She bent her head low and began to write.

She was so immersed in her writing that she didn't notice that the library had begun to empty. Sighing in content, Hermione lifted her head to re-read what she had written. She had finished her essay and it had filled three large rolls of parchment. She finished reading it and smiled, happy with it's content. Suddenly, Hermione was aware of the silence in the library.

She looked around and realised with a shock that everyone had left. Gathering her books together, Hermione ran out of the library and hurried towards the Astrology classroom. The class was still waiting outside the room for the lesson to begin. Hermione sighed breathlessly; _she wasn't too late after all_, she thought relieved.

The lesson passed slowly; Ron still sat with Parvati and Lavender, although he sent her frequent glares. Hermione sat at the same desk as Dean and Seamus but didn't talk to them; they spent the whole hour discussing Quidditch. Hermione spent the lesson working on her own, not talking to anyone, feeling thoroughly sorry for herself. She was convinced, however, that she was not going to be the one to apologise to Ron.

The lesson eventually drew to a close and Hermione walked back towards her dormitory. She was planning on visiting Harry in the Hospital Wing before lunch, which left her with about ten minutes. She was aware that Ron was walking directly behind her; she had heard Seamus call to him.

"You and Hermione still not talking," Seamus asked Ron, in his thick Irish accent. Ron replied, shaking his head. Hermione pretended not to hear them, although she was sure that they knew she could. She rolled her eyes and sped up. Seamus and Ron's voices grew quieter as she got further away from them. Reaching the portrait hole, Hermione murmured the password and ran immediately up to her dormitory.

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the tidy room. The top drawer of her bedside table was slightly ajar. She leant over to close it and stopped. Her eyes widened in surprise, she walked around to the drawer. _That was the drawer she had put the letter she was writing to Dumbledore in,_ she thought, _where was it?_ She opened the drawer completely and rifled through the scraps of parchment that had been placed in there.

The letter she had begun to write was nowhere to be seen. Hermione could have kicked herself; _why hadn't she thought of that? _she thought angrily, _anyone could have seen it, she should have thrown it away when she had the chance before._ Hermione forced herself to think of the night before, when she had been writing it. She had decided that she would burn it later, then she had gone to see Harry and then Malfoy had come into her room. _Malfoy,_ she repeated in her head, _it had to be him._

Hermione frowned; _she had to leave to visit Harry now; she'd get the letter from Malfoy later that night._ Descending the stairs, she passed Ron who ignored her. She sighed and continued on her way. She pushed her way through the group of students loitering by the portrait hole and stepped out into the corridor.

She reached the Hospital Wing quickly, greeted Madam Pomfrey and settled down next to Harry's bed. He turned to face her instantly, meeting her gaze. His eyes were narrowed as if he had been deep in thought. He tried to sit up but was obviously having trouble. Hermione jumped up from her seat and tried to make Harry more comfortable. She held his head and positioned the pillows underneath him. Harry was satisfied; he wasn't sitting but he could see her better.

"Harry," Hermione spoke gently, deeply concerned for her friend, "are you okay? How are you feeling?" Harry groaned and looked down at his shoulder. His arm was held in a cast which ran from his wrist all the way to his armpit. He shuffled uncomfortably, barring his teeth.

"I'm alright," he spoke breathlessly. Hermione frowned, Harry was obviously in pain but either didn't want to admit it, or had more important things on his mind. "Hermione, we need to talk," he continued. He looked at Hermione, expecting a response, but she only sat silently opposite him, looking down at her hands. "I'm not sure if I should be the one to tell you this … but Ron found a letter in your room."

Hermione froze; _Ron? Ron had found her letter?_ After a moment, she spoke; "The one to Dumbledore?" Harry nodded slowly, "Ron? But I … I … no, Ron?" Hermione was shocked; she wouldn't have expected Ron to have sifted through her belongings. Suddenly the real problem hit her; the contents of the letter.

She looked up at Harry, questioningly. He nodded again, "Yes, Ron told me what was written; he told me that you knew what happened, and he also told me that you had screwed up the parchment; you weren't going to give it to Dumbledore?" Hermione lowered her head again, blushing furiously. "Hermione? What happened?"

Hermione raised her head and took a long look at her friend. He was still squirming slightly from the pain of his wound and his face was contorted with a mixture of pain, despair and interest; he evidently wanted to know what Malfoy had done at the match. Hermione didn't know what to say; she couldn't admit what she had done, nor did she feel that she could pin the blame completely on Malfoy. Not knowing what else to do, Hermione stood quickly, knocking the chair from under her, and ran for the door. She could hear Harry calling her name but she didn't turn around; she didn't want to see his face.

She ran from the Hospital Wing, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Her face was flushed, both with misery and anger. She muttered Ron's name under her breath. "What gives him the right … the right to do that … and tell Harry?" she spoke to herself, shaking angrily as she walked. She was storming back to the Gryffindor tower and when she reached there, she almost pulled the portrait of the wall, in her rage. She ran up the stairs, two steps at a time, and stood outside Ron's dormitory.

She burst into his room without knocking. Ron, who had been lying on his bed, sprung up immediately. His mouth fell open at the sight of Hermione. She looked furious and, although they were not strictly talking at the moment, Ron knew better than to provoke her when she was like this. He shuffled over on his bed, motioning a spot for her to sit.

Hermione glanced at where his hand lay on the bed but ignored the gesture. Instead she stomped to where he sat and stood over him, looking down at his face sternly. "Ron!" she spat at him, "why are you going through my things?" She glared at him, daring him to deny it. Instead, she was shocked to discover that he looked straight back at her, not even blinking.

"That, Hermione, is not the point," he said, standing up so that he stood directly in front of her, "the point is that you know what Malfoy did, and you weren't even going to tell Dumbledore." He had caught her out, and she knew it. Hermione lowered her eyes, thinking quickly. "Don't even try to think of an excuse," Ron added as if he knew what she was doing, "what you have done is about ten times worse that whatever I have done."

Hermione turned to walk out of his room. She couldn't think of anything more that she wanted to say to him. In a desperate attempt to find out the truth, Ron reached out and grabbed her arm forcefully. Biting his lower lip painfully, he spun her around and forced her to look at him. Hermione looked up into his eyes; she stood straight in an attempt to look strong, but her eyes betrayed her. In her eyes, Ron saw fear.

Ron tightened his grip on Hermione's arms and held her still. Hermione started to say something but he interrupted; "Hermione, tell me what you were going to write." Hermione moved her head to the side avoiding his stare. "NOW!" he shouted, startling both himself and her. He pushed her away from him and she fell in the opposite direction of the door.

Sprawled on the floor, Hermione looked up at her friend desperately. Any remaining ounce of dignity seeped out of her and she whimpered, genuinely afraid of what Ron might do. He advanced towards her, aware of her vulnerability and wanting to use it to find out what he needed to know. He stood above her; "Hermione, I need to know."

He bent down so that he was squatting in front of her and wiped away a few tears that had begun to roll down her cheeks. She jumped slightly at his touch but didn't move her head away. "Oh, Ron," she fell forward into his chest, burying her face in his black robes. She shuddered as she sobbed, "what have I done?" Harry sighed and put one hand on her back. He stroked her hair with his other hand and tried to comfort her.

After a while, Ron drew back and nudged Hermione's face up by placing his hand underneath his chin. He looked at her silently; her face was flushed and her eyes were puffy and red. She wiped her eyes tentatively, removing the last few drop of moisture from them. Ron spoke again; "please Hermione; for Harry's sake, please tell me what you know."

Hermione slumped against the edge of the bed and, facing Ron, told him a brief account of the events that had happened. "Malfoy … Malfoy pulled me into a classroom," Hermione looked up at Ron as she spoke. She could tell that he didn't want to interrupt but was silently cursing the Slytherin, "he had a plan." Ron nodded, encouraging her to continue, "he wanted me to, he needed to …"

Hermione paused and looked away from her friend. _How could she tell him?_ she wondered, _how could she say what she had done?_ She took a deep breath; _this is for Harry, _she repeated again. "Malfoy's dad … I mean, Lucius; Lucius hits Malfoy." Hermione took another pause.

Ron took this opportunity to speak. "Come on Hermione, I don't care about that lowlife's family problems; tell me about the match." Hermione glared at him, indicating that Lucius Malfoy was important in the story. "Okay, okay; I'm sorry, please carry on," Ron apologised.

"Well," Hermione began again, haughtily, "Malfoy needed me to do something for him. He needed to get onto the Chudley Cannons team." Ron opened his mouth to speak again but was cut short by the stare Hermione gave him. "He told me everything; Lucius wants Draco to be a Death Eater."

Ron tried hard to dissolve a chortle. It didn't surprise him in the least that Malfoy was destined to be part of Voldemort's inner circle of dark wizards. _No doubt Lucius had been teaching him the Dark Arts all these years, _he thought, narrowing his eyes in hatred. Hermione seemed to know what her best friend was thinking and continued speaking before he could make a comment.

"Draco doesn't want this." This time, Ron couldn't hide his amusement and laughed loudly. He looked at Hermione with his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Hermione sighed and poked her friend sharply in the ribs; "Ron," she moaned, "if you're going to laugh, I'm not going to tell you. I mean it."

Ron stopped laughing and held a hand over the area she had poked him in. "Malfoy doesn't want to be a Death Eater? You expect me to believe that?" Suddenly the smile was gone from his face; "and don't call him Draco - that … that's just wrong." Hermione blushed, she hadn't even been aware that she had begun to call him by his first name.

"Anyway," she said pointedly, obviously eager to finish her account, "He needs to get onto the team if he's going to be able to get away from his father. The only two things he really excels at are his Dark Art studies and Quidditch." She paused, looking at Ron, for any sign of a reaction. She got none, so just continued; "well, if he gets on the team, his father will stop pressuring him to become a Death Eater."

"What? So, you're telling me that Malfoy would do almost anything to get onto this team?" Ron looked at his friend as he spoke, Hermione nodded; "he would even harm his opposition?" Hermione nodded again but slower this time. Ron suddenly registered this information in his mind; "Oh my god," he said breathlessly, "but Hermione, what did you do?"

Hermione lowered her eyes again wanting, more than anything, for the ground to swallow her up. "I, err …, I, kind of …" she stammered. She saw Ron place his hand over hers, reassuring her and urging her to continue. "I gave him the knife … and I let him … I let him stab my best friend."

Hermione dissolved into tears, not even noticing that Ron had lifted his hand off hers. She turned away from him, ashamed of herself and not wanting to hear anything that he might say to her. Still without even glancing at Ron, Hermione sprang to her feet and ran for the door. She reached it within moments and, without a second thought, opened it and ran to her own dormitory. When she reached her room, she flung herself onto her bed, covering her face with her hands, trying to control her ashamed tears.

Ron remained sitting at the base of the bed. He couldn't believe all that Hermione had just told him. After she had run from his room, Ron had wondered whether he should go after her. He decided against it, realising that she needed time alone. He raised himself, so that he now sat on the end of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. _He would have to tell Harry, and Dumbledore, _he realised, _but how could he do it without making Hermione lose her position as Head Girl?_


	16. Chapter XVI

**CHAPTER XVI**

Hermione shivered in her sleep; she could feel something gently prodding her stomach and she turned onto her side in an attempt to escape the intruder's hands. A loud hiss as he fell to the ground told Hermione the invader had been Crookshanks. Hermione sighed and pulled herself up into a seating position. She rubbed her eyes as they adjusted to the light; they still felt puffy from her burst of crying earlier.

Hermione squinted at the clock that lay beside her on her bedside table. She gasped involuntarily as she noticed the time. She only had ten minutes to get to the Slytherin dormitories to meet Malfoy. She jumped up from her bed, cursing under her breath for allowing herself to fall asleep, and pulled on a plain black robe. She tugged it roughly over her shoulders and, glancing in the mirror, pulled her hair out of its band and let it flow freely over her shoulders. She ran her hand systematically through her thick hair before walking back to her bedside table.

Her wand lay next to her bed. She leant over and picked it up and, as she reached to put it into her robe's inner pocket, Hermione froze. She pulled it out again and looked at it closely. After much thought, she threw it down on the bed and turned to leave her room, her robe billowing out behind her.

She ran down the steps two at a time and left through the portrait hole silently and unnoticed by the Gryffindors who were still gathered in the common room. Making her way through the silent corridors of the castle, Hermione shivered and pulled her robe closer to her body, feeling a slight breeze around her. She reached the Slytherin area relatively quickly, although she knew she was late for meeting with Malfoy.

She muttered the Slytherin password and slipped into the common room. She frowned; the room was deserted. A few tables that were scattered about the room had bottles on them, others had chess sets lying, discarded, on them. The chairs had been left arranged around the tables and Hermione, spotting a large armchair, sat in it, facing the fireplace, a confused expression on her face.

Hermione rested her head against the back of the chair. Her eyelids began to droop and she could feel her head rolling onto her left shoulder. She could feel her body relaxing as she gradually began to fall asleep. She was suddenly aware, in her barely conscious mind, of a warmth on her right shoulder. Subconsciously, she shuffled in the chair, exposing more of her body to the warmth. As her head dropped to her shoulder once again, the side of her face fell against a soft, warm hand.

Hermione jumped and her eyes sprung open. In front of her knelt Malfoy; his pale pointed features were softened by the dim light and his hand lay gently on her shoulder. Hermione opened her mouth and tried to speak; "I … what, err … where?" Hermione gave up, closed her mouth and took a deep breath before trying again, "Malfoy!"

Malfoy looked smugly amused by her confusion. He rocked back on his knees, removing his hand from Hermione's shoulder. "Welcome back to the real world, sleeping beauty," he said sarcastically, standing slowly. Hermione watched him intently, longing for the feel of his hand against his skin again.

Malfoy stood and turned away from her. Hermione immediately jumped to her feet, chasing after the blond-haired boy. "Where are you going?" Hermione pouted as she spoke but instantly turned her head away from Malfoy when she realised what she was doing. He was looking in the other direction, however and didn't see her. "I mean, well, where are you going?" she asked again, feeling her face grow hotter.

Malfoy turned slowly until he was facing her directly. "Well," he said, a smug smile tugging at his lips, "we need to discuss … things, and anyone could walk in here." Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Torn between emotions, Hermione didn't know whether to slap Malfoy for his cool confidence or whether to follow him obediently. In the silence that followed, Malfoy allowed his eyes to wander. He looked at her face which was flushed a subtle pink shade. The dim light of the fire accentuated her cheekbones, her eyes sparkled in the dancing flames and her lips were moist and slightly parted.

"Well, come on then, let's get this over quickly; I've got things to do, you know," Hermione spoke urgently, a bright shade of red creeping up onto her cheeks. Malfoy almost grinned; Hermione spoke as if she was battling with herself; the potion had definitely been more successful this time, he thought gleefully. He glanced at Hermione one last time, before he led the way up the stairs.

Just like the Gryffindor dormitories, Malfoy's room was up the stairs to the left. Hermione glanced wistfully at the other set of stairs. Somewhere past those stairs, lay the rooms that accommodated the Slytherin girls. Somewhere, probably in a warm, comfy bed, lay Pansy Parkinson, Malfoy's girlfriend. Malfoy's girlfriend, she repeated in her head. "Malf-" she began, snapping her head back in the direction that she was walking.

"Pansy's sneaked out to Hogsmead with some of the seventh-years." Malfoy answered, sensing what she was going to ask without even turning his head. "You know what us older kids are like," he teased her. Hermione opened her mouth to reply that she would not allow the Gryffindors to act in such a way but closed it again, quickly, remembering how she had allowed Ron and Harry to sneak through one of Hogwart's secret passageways into the nearest wizarding village.

Malfoy smiled to himself. He had known of Hermione's two best friend's late night excursions to Hogsmead and also knew that Hermione desperately wanted to prove that she was in some way better than him. He had realised that when he had told her of Pansy's trip, she would want to deny that she had not let her House do the same thing. From her silence, Malfoy gathered that she had been lost for words. "Just up here," he said eventually, walking up the final few stairs to the uppermost floor of the tower.

Hermione followed silently, looking at the stone walls of the tower as she went. It was almost exactly the same as the tower that lead to the Gryffindor dormitories. On the wall were hung various pictures which were framed in different shapes and sizes. Hermione looked carefully at each of the portraits as she passed them, recognising some of the faces from various textbooks that she had read over her years at Hogwarts. The faces that she recognised had attended Hogwarts when they were younger and had gone onto become great wizards. Gretagar Smyslinkle had, upon finishing her time at Hogwarts, become the editor for Dark Day Times, a weekly magazine that focused upon the methods of the world's darkest wizards. Jason Werthuly was walking in his frame, pacing the length, seemingly reciting lines. "Actor," Malfoy said simply, turning to look at Hermione who had paused to gaze at the former Slytherin who was oblivious to their presence.

At the top of the stairs was a large frame, which covered almost the entirety of the wall. In it, a tall wizard looked out at the two students, glaring at them with emotionless black eyes. His face was contorted into a frown which gave his whole face an expression of secrecy and deceit. Hermione couldn't hold back a short gasp. She was looking into the unblinking face of Salazar Slytherin, one of the four founders of the school.

Malfoy stopped, without turning, knowing that Hermione was captivated with the portrait of the wizard. When he had been up to her room, Malfoy had noticed the large painting of Godric Gryffindor, founder of Hermione's House. His attention had immediately been captured by the strong wizard who held a shining silver sword in his hand. Smiling in memory of that night, Malfoy turned slowly and walked back to where Hermione stood. He, too, looked at the portrait, admiring the way that the tall Slytherin stood.

"Another girl, young Malfoy?" Salazar spoke slowly but clearly, his voice echoing down the corridors, "quite a habit this is becoming, isn't it. Just like your father." Malfoy straightened his back proudly at the mention of his father. He had heard of his father's ways when he was at Hogwarts. It had been were he had meet his future wife but that hadn't stopped him inviting numerous girls to his room.

He suddenly remembered Hermione's presence and flicked his eyes over in her direction, turning his head slightly. She was looking back at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What?" he said, rolling his eyes to protest his innocence. Hermione made an inaudible noise which Malfoy didn't ask her to repeat. Instead, he took her hand in his and, glaring at the portrait, led her down a narrow corridor.

They passed a large wooden door, on the right of the corridor, which Hermione knew to belong to the male Slytherin prefect. There was a similar door which lay on the left, that she knew instantly led to the bathroom which they all shared. She followed Malfoy, knowing where he was leading her. His bedroom, like hers, lay at the end of the corridor. He dropped her hand from his when they reached the door.

Malfoy fumbled inside his cloak, searching for his key to the door. Finding it, he inserted it into the brass lock, turning it slowly, and pushed the heavy door open. He stepped inside the room and held the door wide open for Hermione. Hermione took one step, froze at the doorframe and, taking a deep breath, proceeded to enter his room. After she had walked through, Malfoy let go of his grip on the wooden door, allowing it to slam back into it's place.

He studied Hermione's face as he walked past her to reach the large window at the opposite end of the room. The room was dark, the candles which would normally light it up, had not been lit, and the only light came from the silver rays of the moon that had crept in through the window. Hermione stood still, her eyes darting around the room, taking in every detail. Malfoy, when he reached the window, drew his gaze away from her and stood in the centre of the frame with his arms gripping the wall on either side, looking out.

Hermione still didn't move. She had known Malfoy had been watching her as he had moved around the room. She was amazed by what he had done to the room. Both the Head Girl and Head Boy had separate rooms to the rest of the school. Each House accommodated for these additional rooms, although some were kept unused if the Head students didn't come from their Houses.

Hermione's room was the same as Malfoy's in shape and size but, for some reason, she felt as though it was so much larger than hers. Scanning the walls, Hermione saw various posters. In one, which was hung on the wall opposite the bed, a young girl was posing in different positions. She was wearing thin clothing and, when Hermione looked closer, she blushed red. Recovering quickly, Hermione rolled her eyes; she had seen that Ron had had a similar poster last time she had been to his house. It wasn't hung on his wall, but she had found it, under his bed, when she had accidentally dropped an earring there. She had been shocked at the time, although she hadn't mentioned it to her best friend. Now, however, it seemed much more fitting that Malfoy should have such a poster on his wall.

Hermione averted her eyes and focused upon the silhouetted figure of Malfoy. He was still standing with his back to her. Hermione walked slowly over to the window and stood behind him. Without thinking, Hermione extended her arms and placed her hands on his hips. Malfoy didn't move, didn't even make any sign that he had acknowledged her close presence. Hermione slowly crept her fingers around to the front of his body and clasped them tightly together around his waist.

Malfoy shifted slightly and, bringing his right hand down from it's perch, he clasped it gently around her own fingers. She released her grip and allowed Malfoy to entwine his fingers in hers. He sighed and lowered his head, looking at Hermione's delicate hands and long slender fingers. He drew his hand away from Hermione's and ran two fingers gingerly up the length of her arm and back down again.

Hermione dropped her hands and pulled them back slowly around his waist. She drew a sharp breath before walking around Malfoy to stand in front of him. She stood with her back leaning against his chest. She, too, was now looking out of the window, at the clear view his room had of the Hogwarts grounds. As she looked out, she felt Malfoy's hands around her own waist and his warm breath against her ear.

His grip tightened around her stomach and Hermione rolled her head back, allowing Malfoy to nuzzle close in her neck. Malfoy rubbed his cheek up and down her neck before planting soft kisses up it, stopping just below her earlobe. Hermione turned slowly and, raising her arms, wrapped them gently around Malfoy's neck. He kept his arms around her waist, holding her tightly to his own body. Hermione rose so that she stood on tiptoes, lifting her head slightly and drawing his face towards her own.

Malfoy lowered his head until his nose was only millimetres away from Hermione's. He looked into her hazel-coloured eyes before tilted his head and pressing his lips against hers. He felt Hermione's lips part underneath his and, taking his time, he moved his tongue gently across her top lip. He felt Hermione wobble slightly against his chest as he moved hand so that it entangled in her thick hair.

The slipped his tongue between Hermione's teeth and flicked playfully with the end of her own tongue. He felt Hermione's mouth vibrate gently as she gave a soft moan of appreciation. Drawing back from Hermione, Malfoy opened his eyes and looked down at the petite girl who stood in front of him. Hermione's eyes were still closed, her eyelids resting gently. Malfoy smiled smugly, before removing his hands from her body and walking to a desk which had been placed against the far wall.

Hermione's eyes flew open as she realised that Malfoy had removed his hands. She looked around the room and saw him over at his desk. Slowly, she walked over to where he stood and, feeling a little unsure of herself, watched silently as he rifled through a drawer, obviously looking for something.

Hermione studied his face carefully. Malfoy clenched and unclenched his jaw as he sifted through a wad of papers that lay in the drawer. His cheekbone's, in the moonlight, became a prominent feature of his face, and his eyes shimmered dangerously when the light caught them. His hair, normally slicked back, fell in front of his face, knotting in front of his eyes as he bent his head to look into the drawer. In one moment, Malfoy used his hand to push the strands of hair out off his forehead and turned to face her, holding a couple of sheets of parchment.

Malfoy froze as he saw her looking at him. "What?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. He winked at Hermione, teasingly, before handing her the topmost sheet of parchment. "Our initial plans for the Yule Ball," he said matter-of-factly, before walking over to his bed and sitting in the centre of it, watching Hermione closely.

Hermione had taken the parchment and had looked at it, reading only the title _Yule Ball._ Suddenly she had remembered why she had come to meet Malfoy that night. Malfoy had left her side to sit on the bed and Hermione followed him. Perching lightly on the edge, Hermione felt a surge of blood flow through her body.

Malfoy, noticing that Hermione had sat as far as possible from him, shuffled closer to her. He saw her jump as she noticed his close presence and withheld the urge to laugh. To test her, Malfoy leant over her lap to reach his bedside table. "Wha - … um, Mal-" Hermione spoke breathlessly as he drew back and sat upright again, holding a quill and his wand.

"Yes?" he asked, not expected an answer, as he pointed his wand at the quill, muttering a few words, to make it full of ink. "Here," he said, passing her the quill, "if you want to add anything." Instead of moving away from her, Malfoy moved even closer. Hermione kept her head bowed, blushing furiously as she read the words scrawled onto the parchment. She could feel Malfoy's eyes watching her intently as she read.

Hermione eventually finished what he had written and looked at him, surprised by how close his face was to hers. Although she knew he had been watching her, she hadn't guessed that he was sitting with his face only a few centimetres from her own. "I … err … great." As Hermione spoke, her gaze dropped from Malfoy's eyes to his lips. Embarrassed, Hermione smiled shyly, looking up pleadingly into his eyes.

"So, that's it then? Smart dress – posh-sounding food – general music," Malfoy spoke slowly, pausing after each idea to study Hermione's face. Hermione flickered back down to the parchment as she read his ideas again. It seemed he had dropped the idea of having a themed night, something which had been common for the past few years. She realised, with a pang of guilt, that she had left Malfoy to plan the event on his own. _How had that happened_, she wondered, before she remembered, _the Quidditch match. _

Malfoy had watched her silently, allowing her time to think. He saw her look back down at the parchment and noticed that, after a while, a distracted look came over her face. He could sense that she was going to provoke an argument with him and, to stop her doing so, he leant over even closer to her and, pushing gently on her opposite cheek, turned her head to face him.

He tilted his head very slowly, bringing his lips closer to hers. His hand moved from her cheek, up to her ear, and gently gripped her long hair. He stopped when he had almost reached Hermione's lips and widened his eyes to look at her. Hermione's eyelids were drooping but she wasn't encouraging him to continue as she was earlier.

Without another moment's hesitation, Malfoy moved his head forward, capturing Hermione's soft lips in his. He felt Hermione attempt to shake him off by pulling her head back. Malfoy tightened his grip on her hair, making her gasp in both shock and pain. He took this opportunity kiss her forcefully before pushing her onto her back. Hermione didn't move, didn't even make a sound as she fell back against the bedcovers.

"Well, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" he asked in a tone of voice that clearly indicated that he didn't care. Hermione gulped and didn't answer, choosing, instead, to stare at the pale-headed boy that was towering above her on the bed. Malfoy, although not expecting her to answer, suddenly felt his cheeks flush with anger.

Never letting his eyes stray from Hermione's face, he clambered on top of her, straddling her hips. Hermione's eyes widened as she felt his knees tighten around her, squeezing her waist sharply. She felt her breath catch in her throat as Malfoy raised a hand to her face. He used the palm of his left hand to gently caress her cheek, running his slender fingers over her feminine features. He felt Hermione relax under his touch, a glazed look coming over her face. Without any warning, Malfoy removed his hand and slapped Hermione smartly across her cheek.


	17. Chapter XVII

**CHAPTER XVII**

Hermione whimpered almost inaudibly at the force of the impact against her cheek. Raising a hand, she held it gingerly against the smarting area, feeling hot tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. With every ounce of remaining strength left within her, she willed herself not to give Malfoy the pleasure of seeing her crying.

Malfoy was still sitting straddled across her hips. He wore his robe although it was now bunched up around his waist, pooling in a heavy mess on her stomach. The parchment with the Yule Ball plans lay, for the moment, forgotten on the floor at the end of the bed. As Hermione looked up, still holding her cheek, and was met by the face of Malfoy. His face, although lacking his usual arrogant smirk, looked delighted about the situation. His cold blue eyes glistened as he flicked them appreciatively over her body.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, suddenly afraid of the Slytherin boy and what he might do. Attempting to free herself, Hermione wiggled her hips, succeeding only in moving a few inches up the bed. Malfoy didn't move his body but drew his knees in even further, digging painful into Hermione's hips and causing her to give a short yelp of pain.

Malfoy grinned, forgetting himself for a moment. "Where are you trying to get to?" he asked slowly, not expecting, and not receiving, an answer. As he spoke, he leant down towards her face, resting his weight on his elbows which he placed on either side of Hermione's head. He watched the Head Girl, observing her every moment.

Hermione's eyes darted from the right to the left, widening slightly as she realised what situation she was in. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a brief second before opening them to stare definitely up at Malfoy. "Get off me n-" Hermione began to say, before she was stopped. Malfoy had brought his face even closer to hers; his nose resting against hers, his face now out of focus. "Malfoy?" Hermione said, her voice tinted with uncertainty.

"Hmm?" Malfoy answered, not moving as he mumbled. "You gonna make me?" he said slowly, still looking deep into her eyes. He felt Hermione shift slightly under his weight and grinned slightly, despite himself. "I said," he begun again, "are you," Malfoy rubbed her nose lightly with his own, "going to," he tilted his head to the side, his lips hovering just above hers, "make me?" As he said the final word, he slipped his tongue out of his mouth and delicately ran it against Hermione's lips.

He felt Hermione's mouth open, in response to his actions, and instantly drew back. Still supporting his waist on his elbows, Malfoy looked down in amusement at Hermione's face. Her eyes were half shut and her lips slightly parted. Her cheeks had a healthy pink tinge to them and her hair laid splayed out on the sheet. Malfoy groaned inwardly, feeling his stomach jump as he studied her delicate features.

"No," Hermione said quietly, giving in to her emotions. She had thought she had answered quietly enough so that Malfoy wouldn't have heard. She knew she was wrong, however, when she saw a smirk creep onto his face. She rolled her eyes before looking back up at him, "oh, come on, it's not like you'd just get off me and let me leave," she said, trying to cover up her previous answer.

"Is that right?" Malfoy's voice sound uninterested, his eyes were scanning her body, quickly taking in her long slender neck and her breasts which rose and fell in time with her quick breaths. Still resting on his knees and elbows, Malfoy ducked his head and lowered his lips to her neck. As he gently licked the small triangular area above where her collarbones met, he felt Hermione gulp.

He grinned against her skin, feeling warmth radiating from her. He felt her throat vibrate as she emitted a deep groan. Encouraged, Malfoy kissed her in the same area, sucking the skin into his mouth and nibbling gently on her collarbone. Hermione groaned again, raising a hand to run in through Malfoy's hair. Using her fingernails, she scratched Malfoy's head lightly, admiring the feel of his soft blond hair as it slipped through her fingers.

Malfoy moved his head around her neck, gently sucking on the side, leaving small red marks in a trail leading up to her ear. Using one hand, Malfoy swept a few stray strands of Hermione's hair behind her ear, allowing his nimble fingers to linger on her ear for a moment. Hermione shuddered at his touch, snapping her head round to face him.

Without a word, Malfoy pushed her head forcefully to the right so that the side of her face lay against his silk bedcovers. Malfoy, hungrily, lowered his head to her ear again, sucking on the bottom of the lobe, before leaving a trail of kisses back down her neck again. He covered the marks he had made previously with fresh bites, savouring the smell and the feel of her skin.

Hermione moaned into the softness of the silk covers, enjoying Malfoy's attentions to her skin. Malfoy raised his eyes, propping himself up on both elbows again. "Like that, do you, Mudblood?" Malfoy spat the last word at her, emphasising it with every remaining ounce of disgust and hatred he felt for Hermione and her friends.

Malfoy watched Hermione's face carefully as she furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. "Actually," she said, pausing to catch her breath, "yes." Hermione, having removed her hand from Malfoy's hair, flung her arms outwards, knocking Malfoy's elbows and setting him off balance. Malfoy fell towards her but Hermione wiggled out of the way, just in time. Flipping him over so that he lay facing the ceiling, Hermione straddled his waist and sat with a luxurious smile painted on her face, "Yes I do; do you have a problem with that?"

Malfoy blinked, obviously still in shock from what had happened in the last few seconds. _Damn Mudblood_, he thought irritably as he slid his hands up Hermione's calves to rest on her hips. His intention was to lift Hermione off him, a task which would not be one of difficulty. Hermione, however, anticipated this and, placing her hands over his, whipped them above his head, holding them securely by his wrists.

Malfoy, to her surprise, didn't struggle against his restraint and was looking up at the student, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Hermione frowned in concern; _what was Malfoy thinking, _she wondered. As if in answer to her thoughts, Malfoy rolled his head back, nodding to his bedside table. Hermione followed the direction of his eyes and saw, on the table, a thin strip of black material.

Hermione whipped her head back round to study Malfoy's face. His eyes glittered devilishly, a sly grin creeping across his face. Malfoy looked back at her; his vision slightly restricted by strands of his blond hair which had fallen in front of his eyes. Hermione smiled, almost fondly, at the sight of him. Malfoy raised his eyebrows, studying his fellow student's face carefully. Hermione shifted her hands, leaving one to hold his wrists steady above his head. With her free hand and lifting herself a few centimetres from his body, Hermione reached for the material.

Clutching the thin material in her left hand, Hermione sidled back onto Malfoy's hips. She locked her eyes with his, draping the material over his stomach. Using one finger, Hermione drew patterns lightly onto over his robe and on top of the material. Shuffling up the bed, resting her body on Malfoy's chest, Hermione reached for his wrists. The material, held between her thumb and fore-finger trailed up Malfoy's chest, across his face and through his hair. She took one last glance down at Malfoy's pale face before wrapping the thin material twice around his wrists, tugging the ends tightly to make sure they were secure. Hermione used the end of the material to secure Malfoy to one of the iron bedposts which were stationed at each corner of his bed.

Malfoy chuckled silently. "Showing your kinky side, Granger?" he asked, in a sarcastic tone, winking as she glanced back at him. Hermione rolled her eyes and wiggled lower down Malfoy's body. Her knees dug into his ribs as she flattened herself against Malfoy. Hermione lowered her head to Malfoy's giving him a quick kiss on the end of his nose. Malfoy grunted, indistinctly, as Hermione raised her face from his.

Attempting to lift himself to her level, Malfoy found that he couldn't do much more than raise his head a few inches. He moaned loudly and fought hard against the urge to call out her name. Hermione had lifted herself off his bed and was kneeling on the bed beside him, looking at Malfoy's struggling form. Hermione grinned; _oh yes_, she thought, _she would get Malfoy back._

Meanwhile, in his bedroom above the Gryffindor common room, Ron had walked around his room, thinking over his previous conversation that he had had with Hermione. _Hermione - Malfoy - knife - Harry - stab_. The words kept repeating themselves inside his head, tormenting him. Frustrated, Ron picked up his wand and threw it across the other side of his room. As the wand hit the far wall, it snapped in two and Ron groaned loudly, battling the urge to throw something else. He had only just got a new wand, to replace the one that had accidentally exploded in a Charms lesson, and the last thing he wanted to think about was how he would explain this to his parents.

Mumbling to himself, Ron trudged over to the opposite side of his room and picked up the two pieces of wood. He looked at his broken wand pitifully and pushed the two parts together, before bringing back to his bed and leaving them there. _He'd think about it later,_ he told himself angrily, turning away from his bed and pacing the length of his room again.

Squeezing his hands into tight fists, Ron wondered whether or not he should tell Harry. _Would Harry want to know exactly what had happened?_ he wondered, _was it too soon?_ A sharp and loud knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. _Hermione_, his first thought was, as he made his way to his door.

He flung the heavy door open and came face to face with Harry. "Harry!" Ron managed to stutter out his name. Harry smiled, although it obviously pained him to do so, and nodded. Ron blushed and apologised, inviting him in. He followed Harry over to his bed. His best friend stopped just in front of the bed, looking down at Ron's latest wand which now lay in two bits.

"Ron!" Harry rolled his eyes, smiling at his friend again, this time with much more ease, "what happened?" he turned to face Ron, looking at him questioningly. Ron lowered his eyes, scanning the floor, thinking quickly.

"Stood on it," he said quietly. Harry knew instantly that Ron was lying but didn't push the issue any further. He perched on the edge of the bed, looking around his friend's room anxiously. He studied, as usual, the large Chudley Cannons poster that was hung on Ron's wall. The players darted about in the air, performing elaborate moves, weaving in and out of each other gracefully. Harry drew his eyes away from the poster to look at his best friend. Ron was shuffling nervously from one foot to the other.

Harry grinned, keeping his eyes locked on his friend. "Ron, come on," he said, encouraging his friend to talk to him, "you know you can tell me anything." Ron looked up at Harry, hearing his words. He opened his mouth, about to speak, before shutting it again. He took a deep breath, searching Harry's eyes before diverting his gaze to look at his Quidditch poster. "Is it about Hermione?" Harry asked, eyeing Ron suspiciously. "Ron, tell me!"

Ron stopped shuffling again and look directly at his friend, not even blinking. "Hermione gave Malfoy the knife that he stabbed you with," he burst out without pausing. Having spoken, Ron began to pace the room again, in front of Harry's watching gaze. Harry hadn't looked away or even spoken since hearing the news. He remained watching his friend intently, thoughts running through his mind.

"Ron?" he said, watching as his best friend turned, slowly, to face him, "what did Hermione tell you?" He stood as he spoke, walking towards his friend. "Ron, don't you think I deserve to know?" Harry looked pleadingly into Ron's eyes, knowing how to get around him. He had to try hard to suppress a triumphant laugh as he saw Ron's resolve melt.

"Well," Ron began, starting to pace the room again. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, "I confronted Hermione about the letter." Harry made a frustrated gesture and opened his mouth to speak. "I know," Ron continued, "you told me not to; but she came back from seeing you and well," Ron paused, remembering what had happened, "she came to me really."

"And?" Harry persisted, eager to get the whole story out of his best friend. He had regretted telling Hermione what he knew about her letter earlier that day. She had run off without even giving an explanation and Harry had immediately wished he could have taken back his words. He had been let out of the Hospital Wing almost half an hour ago and had gone straight to see Ron.

"Well, I had to force her … err, a bit before she told me anything." Ron shuddered, subconsciously, as he remembered, "she admitted it eventually." Ron looked back at Harry, suddenly feeling pity for his friend. _This had to be hard on him, _he thought, _hearing that his best friend gave consent for his enemy to stab him._ Harry was sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his face looking down at the ground.

"Ron, where is she now?" Harry spoke slowly, his words full of suppressed pain. Ron's face was blank and Harry let out an exasperated fool. "She's probably with Malfoy now," he said, rolling his eyes. He jumped up from the bed, walked past his best friend and held the door open. Ron didn't move. "Come on, you know it's not her fault, you know he forced her to take that potion last night."

At this, Ron's eyes widened. "What? What potion?" Ron realised that since the night he had caught Hermione and Malfoy kissing, he hadn't heard anything more about what had happened. Harry quickly told him all he knew about Hermione's second experience with the Cochgrayne juice. Ron listened intently, shocked but not wholly surprised that Hermione had not informed him. His former annoyed feelings towards his friend passed and a new emotion of guilt and anxiety came over him.

Making up his mind quickly, he strode past Harry and began to descend the steps which led to the Gryffindor common room. He looked around, searching through the groups of students for Hermione. He spotted Lavender by the fireplace and, after making his way over to her, asked if she had seen or heard anything from Hermione.

"I think she said something about Head Girl duties," Lavender waved her hand nonchalantly before returning to the conversation she had been having with Parvati. Whilst the other Gryffindor was completely unconcerned, Ron's blood went cold at the words. _She was with Malfoy,_ he realised and he turned back to find Harry.

Harry was waiting by the exit from the common room and was subtly pushing something into his robe's inner pocket. _His Invisibility cloak, _Ron guessed, a small smile creeping onto his face. When he reached his friend, they pushed open the portrait and stepped out into the main Hogwarts corridor. As they turned the corner, and making sure that no one was around, they flung the cloak over their heads and hurried in the direction of the Great Hall.

Once they had reached the Hall, they paused. This was where the Gryffindors and the Slytherins usually split paths. The Slytherins would usually wander down a smaller corridor which branched off just to their right. Heading in that direction, both boys looked around anxiously around themselves, making sure that no one was following them.

At the end of the narrow corridor, they came to a junction. Both corridors looked identical but turned off in completely different directions. Underneath the cloak, Harry turned to face Ron and whispered to his friend. "Which way?" he asked, trying to be as quiet as possible. Ron shrugged, having never seen where the Slytherins went when they reached this far. Making up his mind, Ron tapped his friend on the shoulder and pointed to back down the corridor which they had just walked down. Harry turned and looked where he was pointing.

Coming closer to where the two boys stood, were a small group of younger Slytherins. The group consisted of a mixture of girls and boys who, Harry assumed, belonged in first year. Harry listened carefully as they drew nearer to the junction, watching the group intently. One small boy who didn't look much older than ten years was walking at the back of the group, talking solemnly to a young dark-haired girl.

Harry watched as the small girl turned to gape in awe, her mouth falling open at the story the boy was telling her. She giggled quietly as he spoke again. "She was so stupid," he said, now within earshot of where Harry and Ron stood. "I just walked away, she couldn't do anything. My cousin even went to talk to her," he laughed.

"Oh, Accipiter, that's so cool," the girl responded. Harry felt his skin crawl at her voice. She spoke with a high-pitched voice, full of amusement and amazement at whatever the young blond-haired boy was saying. Harry watched as Accipiter graceful raised his arm and draped it lightly over the girl's shoulder.

"Well, what can I tell you? Even the Head Girl is like putty in my hands," the boy drawled, with an ignorant laugh. Harry felt his hands tingle as he heard Accipiter's words. He disliked the couple immediately and had a feeling he knew precisely who this boy's cousin was_. It could only be Malfoy_, he thought angrily.

Ron turned to face him, mirroring the emotions Harry felt. He, too, had worked out who the boy's cousin was and he had felt his blood rise when he had heard the mention of Hermione. He had almost broken his silence and stepped out from underneath the cloak to defend his friend but, at the last minute, had decided against it. He narrowed his eyes, cursing the younger boy silently, as he watched the group pass and walk down the corridor to the left.

Harry and Ron, still huddled together, walked behind them, trying to follow as quietly as possible. As Accipiter and his female friend hung back at the rear end of the group, Harry and Ron could hear their conversation as they trudged along the corridor. Accipiter had changed the subject and was now describing his latest Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

"The big oath," Ron heard him say, and clenched his hands into fists instinctively. Both boys knew, from previous experience with Malfoy, that the young boy was talking about Hagrid. Accipiter passed a few more harsh judgements on his teacher and Ron suddenly stepped forward, intending to confront the Slytherin about his attitude. Harry pulled him back just before he stepped out from under the Invisibility cloak, holding a finger to his mouth, indicating the need for silence. Ron rolled his eyes and shook his head angrily, looking from Harry's face back to the retreating body of Accipiter.

The group came to a stop outside a large painting and the foremost student uttered a word which the two seventh-years couldn't hear. The younger Hogwarts students began to climb through the portrait-hole. Harry and Ron hung back and as soon as Accipiter has clambered through, they allowed the door to almost close before they slipped through themselves.

Ron looked around the Slytherin common room, amazed at it's similarities to their own. Harry nudged his friend, indicating to the stairway. The two boys had a vague idea of where to find Malfoy's room; they had visited Hermione's enough times. As the climbed the stairs, both boys looked in wonder at the portraits on the wall. Ron laughed. "It's a wonder that they don't have a life-size picture of Voldemort up here," he joked, but quietened as soon as he saw Harry's pained face.

Walking down a corridor, Harry spotted the room that he assumed belonged to the Head Boy and silently pointed to it, creeping towards the door on tip-toes. As they reached the door, the two boys leant towards the room, pressing their ears up against the wood. Through the door, they could hear muffled sounds, which they assumed came from Hermione and Malfoy.

"Showing your kinky side, Granger?" Harry turned to Ron, his eyes widened in shock. _Had Malfoy really just said that?_ he wondered. Ron nodded his head, not showing the same extent of surprise. Harry lowered his head and began to back away from the door. The Invisibility cloak slipped over his head, his face becoming fully visible. He turned and began to run back down the stairs. Ron followed him, calling his name, eager to pull Harry under the cloak again and afraid that they would be caught by a passing Slytherin.


End file.
